The Spider and the Fly
by supernaturalsam
Summary: It's Halloween. The most fearsome creatures usually turn out to be very human, not the ghosts and goblins. Based loosely on "The Spider and the Fly" by Mary Howitt. COMPLETED 10/31/12.
1. Chapter 1

**And so begins my Halloween treat for you, my lovelies. This story has already been written in its entirety. I will be updating it daily up until it's conclusion on Halloween. It's a horror/thriller based very loosely on Mary Howitt's poem **_**The Spider and the Fly.**_** I included it at the very beginning for those of you who may not be familiar with the poem.**

* * *

_**The Spider and the Fly**_

_"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly,  
"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;  
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,  
And I have many curious things to show you when you are there."  
"Oh no, no," said the Fly, "to ask me is in vain;  
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."_

_"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;_  
_Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly._  
_"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin;_  
_And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"_  
_"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said_  
_They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"_

_Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend, what can I do_  
_To prove that warm affection I've always felt for you?_  
_I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;_  
_I'm sure you're very welcome - will you please take a slice?"_  
_"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind sir, that cannot be,_  
_I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"_

_"Sweet creature," said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise;_  
_How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!_  
_I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;_  
_If you step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."_  
_"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say;_  
_And bidding good morning now, I'll call another day."_

_The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,_  
_For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again;_  
_So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,_  
_And set his table ready to dine upon the Fly._  
_then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,_  
_"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;_  
_Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your head;_  
_Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are as dull as lead."_

_Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,_  
_Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;_  
_With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, -_  
_Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue;_  
_Thinking only of her crested head - poor foolish thing! At last,_  
_Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast._  
_He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den_  
_Within his little parlor - but she ne'er came out again!_

_And now, dear little children, who may this story read,_  
_To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er heed;_  
_Unto an evil counsellor close heart, and ear, and eye,_  
_And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly._

_~by Mary Howitt_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Nancy Drew let out a soft moan, massaging her temples as she felt the very beginnings of a headache forming at the base of her skull. She was beyond exhausted, not to mention cranky as hell. Which would explain why Frank and Joe Hardy had left her alone, in favor of chasing yet another hunch that would lead them nowhere.

Maybe she _was_ being too difficult and short with them.

Then again, the brothers were just as stressed as she was. It truly was a wonder that they hadn't killed each other yet, especially after hitting one dead end after another. It was enough to make even the sanest of people snap.

For the past week, they'd been investigating a series of grotesque deaths in which women were found with their bodies completely wrapped, resembling mummies. So far, three bodies had been found throughout River Heights in various places—very public places, to be exact. A park on Thursday, the library on Saturday, and a schoolyard on Monday. It was now Tuesday, and they were no closer to catching the killer than they were when the murders first started.

Add to the fact that tomorrow was Halloween and it was making the residents of the small town freak out. There was even talk of cancelling Halloween festivities altogether, which Nancy thought was a shame since River Heights was known to go all out to make sure the kids had a memorable night filled with goodies and frights.

Nancy, Frank, and Joe had been called in after the second body was found. Normally, they didn't choose to work murders, especially ones that involved a potential serial killer. With their thriving private detective agency, they usually worked robberies, embezzlement cases, and cheating spouses and the like, not to mention they still traveled the country taking on cases. If one of the cases involved an unfortunate death, then that was just part of it. But they had made a pact when they first started the business that they wouldn't actively take on murders—it was a job for the police.

Besides, they didn't have the resources to go after a killer. Killers tended to be unpredictable and while they could handle dangerous situations, it was just too risky for them. Nancy and the Hardys refused to carry a gun unless it was absolutely necessary. So far, they had been lucky to never have the need to use one.

The only reason they had agreed to take on the case was because of Chief McGinnis of the River Heights Police Department. He'd always been like a second father to Nancy as she was growing up and it was hard for her to turn him down when he asked for help. The police department was still working the case, but the three of them had been brought on to offer a new perspective, and hopefully catch something the rest of them were missing.

As if that wasn't enough, the FBI had also been brought in to assist with the investigation after it had been determined that this was not the first time the killer had struck. So far, the killer had been linked to six other cities—Minneapolis, Orlando, Austin, Philadelphia, Nashville, and New Orleans. All of the victims—young women—were killed in the same manner with virtually no evidence left behind at any of the crime scenes. All of the murders had occurred during the week leading up to Halloween, much like the ones in River Heights. And they had all happened in the span of six years.

Six years and the murderer was still out there, inflicting terror on the innocent. To say that frustrations and fears were running at an all-time high would be a huge understatement.

Nancy let out a tired sigh as she rose stiffly from the table, coffee cup in hand. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept a full eight hours, running on nothing more than caffeine, determination, and adrenaline. She'd stared at the crime scene photos until they'd been seared into her memory, the horror stricken faces of the dead women haunting her dreams. She knew the case files by heart, and yet there was still nothing she could find to help them catch the killer.

Walking over to the coffeemaker, she poured herself another cup of coffee, foregoing the sugar and cream this time. While she didn't prefer the taste of black coffee, it was the only thing keeping her awake and alert at this point. She'd made the latest batch so strong, she was sure it was slowly tearing the lining of her stomach with each sip.

The office was so silent, the ticking of the clock the only sound to keep her company. If Frank and Joe were here, there'd be music or a football game playing in the background. Nancy preferred silence and she was grateful they had left her alone so she could concentrate without the noise.

She nearly dropped her coffee cup as her iPhone came to life, piercing the silence with its loud ring. Figuring it was Frank checking in with her, Nancy picked it up before it could go to voicemail.

"This is Nancy Drew."

"_Nancy? Is this a bad time?"_

Nancy smiled at the sound of Special Agent Wesley Levine's voice. He'd been the FBI agent assigned to the case, considering he'd been following it since the first series of murders. He knew the case inside and out and had insight into the killer that would scare even the most seasoned of detectives. When he'd first been brought on, Frank and Joe had been leery of him, knowing full well what happened when the government got involved with investigations.

Wesley had turned out to be the exact opposite of the agents they had worked with in the past. He was forthcoming with information, including them on all of the witness interviews and autopsies. He'd been eager to get their opinions about the case and had even followed any leads they had found, no matter how crazy they may have been.

After a while, the brothers had eventually warmed to him.

"Hey, Wesley," Nancy greeted him. "I was actually taking a break from the case. Did you find anything new?"

"_No. I'm afraid I'm still not having any luck, either."_

Nancy held back a disappointed sigh as she fiddled with the heart pendant on her necklace. "Well, Frank and Joe went out to check on another lead."

"_Oh, yeah? A good one?"_

"Probably not. But we have to go after anything at this point."

"_I agree."_

"What are you up to?"

"_I actually wanted to talk to you," _Wesley said._ "I was wondering if you'd be willing to come over and take a look at some of my notes. I've been staring at them so long, they're beginning to overlap each other. If I had a fresh pair of eyes, maybe we could come up with a breakthrough."_

Nancy glanced at her watch, seeing it was close to seven. She wasn't sure what time Frank and Joe were planning on getting back, and she couldn't wait for them to go meet with Wesley. If they could find something that would lead them to the killer, then she had to pursue it.

"_Are you there? If you're busy…"_

"No," Nancy quickly interrupted. "Let me grab some of my notes and I'll head on over. Just text me your address."

"_Great. I'll send it your way. Thanks, Nancy."_

"No problem." Nancy disconnected the call, draining the last dregs of her coffee. Putting the cup in the sink, she grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled a hasty note for Frank and Joe, telling them where she was going. Then, gathering her notes, she put them in her purse and walked out the door just as Wesley texted his address.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Nancy was pulling into the driveway of a modest home, nestled in a cozy subdivision of similar-looking homes on the outskirts of town. It was a one story brick home with blue shutters and trim, Wesley's black rental car parked outside of the garage. A sidewalk lined with solar lights led up to a set of stone steps. There was a garden along the front of the house filled with chrysanthemums of varying fall colors. The steps were decorated with jack-o-lanterns, their eerie faces illuminated by candlelight.

Nancy walked up the stairs and before she could ring the doorbell, the door was opened. Wesley's face broke into a smile when he saw her. "Hey. I was wondering if you were able to find the place."

"I know River Heights like the back of my hand," Nancy said. "So, this is your place?"

"A fellow agent's actually. He's on assignment and since he knew I was going to be in town, he let me stay here." Wesley held the door open to let Nancy inside.

"It's a nice place." Nancy's eyes took in her surroundings as she stepped into the entryway. The interior was bathed in warm light, the walls painted in muted shades of green. The furniture was modern and it was obvious from the decorations that it was mainly a bachelor pad. There were no feminine touches to be found.

"I have everything set up in the dining room if you'd like to get started," Wesley said, gesturing to his left. "Would you like anything to drink? I have some leftover pizza if you're hungry."

"I'm fine. I've already had too much coffee as it is. I'm surprised I'm even able to walk straight," she added with a laugh.

Wesley smiled but before he could say anything, his cell phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at the screen and frowned.

"Is everything okay?"

"It's my boss." He glanced up at Nancy apologetically. "I have to take this call. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I understand."

"The dining room is to the left. Make yourself at home and I'll be right there."

"Okay." Nancy watched as he turned away from her, answering the phone in a hushed tone as he walked to the other side of the house. She wasn't too eager to go over his notes alone, so she decided to explore the home, her curiosity getting the better of her. She'd always been fascinated by other people's homes, knowing that they revealed a lot about the owner. Even though it wasn't Wesley's place, she was still curious about the agent who lived here.

The masculine theme continued throughout the interior, the walls decorated with sports memorabilia displayed in shadow boxes. There were no personal pictures that Nancy could find and she wondered vaguely if the unknown agent had any friends or family. She figured it would be difficult with his job, but there should have at least been some form of personal touches. Maybe it was a safety precaution. Nancy knew being an FBI agent came with a lot of risk, not only for the agent, but their families as well.

Nancy was just about to step into the dining room when a noise caught her attention. She couldn't be sure, but it sounded as if someone was whimpering. Staying still for a few seconds, her ears strained to make out the sound again. She was about to put it off to her imagination when she heard it again, coming from behind a door.

Frowning, Nancy moved towards it. Wesley never mentioned anything about anyone else being in the home, but then again, it wasn't any of her business if someone was here. She was about to turn around and go to the dining room when the whimpering became more insistent, almost as if someone was in pain.

Unable to walk away, Nancy's hand closed around the doorknob. After looking to make sure Wesley wasn't coming back, she opened the door, wincing as it gave a pitiful squeak. It looked to be some sort of basement, a set of wooden stairs leading down into inky darkness. Reaching into her pocket, Nancy pulled out her penlight and made her way down the stairs.

The smell was what hit her first. It was a strong, pungent odor—blood mixed with the unmistakable scent of decay. Nancy had seen enough crime scenes in her lifetime to recognize the stench of death. A cold feeling fisted in the pit of her stomach. Her mind was screaming at her to turn around and get out of there. She was more than eager to listen to it and was turning when she heard another soft whimper.

"Hello?" Nancy called softly. A pained sob answered her almost immediately.

She knew then that she couldn't turn around, not if there was someone down here who needed help. Turning the beam of light to the wall, Nancy found the light switch and flipped it on, bright light filling the room. She had to blink a couple of times and when her eyes finally focused on the room, she immediately wished she'd never turned them on.

Several gauze-wrapped bodies hung upside down from the support beams, patches of blood visible on the fabrics. Here she thought they were only dealing with three victims, but it was obvious from what she was seeing how wrong they were—so very wrong. While that was enough to send fear stabbing into her heart, what she saw in the middle of the room terrified her even more.

A young woman was lying on a table, an IV sticking out of her arm, leading to a bag filled with blood. Her hands and feet were secured to the table and a piece of duct tape covered her mouth. Her brown hair hung limply around her as she lifted her head to look at Nancy with terror-filled eyes. Nancy noticed she was wearing a short, silky white gown.

The sick feeling continued to grow inside Nancy's stomach as the pieces of this gruesome puzzle came together. The killer had been in front of them all along, in the form of a trustworthy, dedicated FBI agent—Wesley Levine. And she had unwittingly walked right into his lair.

The only thing Nancy knew for sure was that she needed to free the girl and get them both out of there before Wesley realized what she'd done. She didn't even think as she strode across the room, immediately setting to work on the young woman's bonds. Within a few seconds, Nancy had her free and was ripping the IV out of her arm.

"Can you walk?" Nancy asked softly, after gently easing the tape off of the girl's mouth.

The girl nodded shakily as she scooted to the edge of the table. She would have fallen to the floor if Nancy hadn't been there to catch her. Nancy put her arm around her shoulders, supporting her weight as they walked towards the stairs. She didn't see any other way out of the room, which meant they would have to try to sneak by Wesley.

"What's your name?" Nancy whispered as they began the slow climb up the stairs.

"Al…Alison," the girl answered sluggishly.

"Alison, my name is Nancy Drew. I'm going to try to get us out of here, okay?" Nancy continued when the girl nodded. "Did he give you anything?"

"What…you…mean?"

"Did he drug you?" Nancy tried to hide her wince as she practically carried the other girl up the stairs.

"Don't…'member…"

Nancy sighed. She clearly wasn't going to get anywhere with Alison. As they reached the landing of the staircase, Nancy cautiously poked her head out, looking for any sign of Wesley. Seeing that they were alone, she began dragging Alison towards the direction of the front door. If they could just get out of there and to her car, then Nancy could call the police.

All of a sudden, the entire house was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the full moon outside the windows. Nancy had no time to silence Alison as she let out a terrified scream. Grabbing the girl by her arms, Nancy shoved her into a dark corner in case Wesley came looking for them.

"He's…he'll come…for us!" Alison began to sob.

"You have to be quiet or he _will_ come for us," Nancy whispered back harshly. "Stay here and don't let him find you. If you can get out of here, then you run. Understand?"

"But…"

"Just do it." Nancy stood up, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. "I'm going to see if I can distract Wesley so you can get away."

Nancy didn't wait to hear Alison's reply. She had no doubt that Wesley was watching them, waiting for them to run. If she could just distract him long enough for Alison to escape, then maybe she had a chance of getting out as well. She just needed to disarm and incapacitate Wesley.

Slowly, she made her way towards the living room, remembering the fireplace. All she needed was to get her hands on the poker. She was just reaching for it when she sensed, rather than heard, someone behind her. Nancy didn't think as her hands closed around the iron bar, swinging it around to hit Wesley with it. He let out a startled grunt as he doubled over and Nancy took the opportunity to push past him.

"Alison, run! Get out of here!" Nancy screamed just as she was tackled from behind. She went down hard, the poker flying out of her hands, sliding across the hardwood floor.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this, Nancy," Wesley purred into her ear as she struggled beneath him.

"Get off of me!" Nancy launched back with her elbow, cracking him in the face. He fell back away from her, blood gushing from his nose. Nancy didn't have any time to feel satisfaction from the hit as she pulled herself to her feet, taking off towards Alison. She hoped to hell the girl had listened to her and was getting away.

Nancy took off down the hallway, looking for somewhere to hide. As she ran, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, her shaking fingers typing out a hurried message to Frank. _Wesley is the killer. I'm at 2513 Oakwood Drive._

She was just about to press send when she was grabbed from behind, the phone ripped away from her hand. Wesley pushed her against the wall, the screen illuminating his bloody face as he read the message. A chilling smile slowly distorted his otherwise handsome features as he threw the phone to the ground, stomping on it until it shattered into pieces. Seeing her only other possible lifeline escape from her grasp, Nancy surreptitiously reached up and yanked the necklace Frank had given her for her birthday off her neck. When he glanced up at her, she'd already dropped it to the floor.

"Wesley…"

Nancy was surprised when he abruptly let her go. Just as she was getting ready to strike at him again, a stun gun appeared in his right hand.

"I wasn't supposed to take you until tomorrow night, Nancy. I'm afraid you've thrown a wrench into my plans. You never should have found that room."

Nancy opened her mouth, but before she could utter a sound, her body convulsed as thousands of volts of electricity shot through her body.

The last thing she was aware of was Wesley catching her as darkness claimed her.

* * *

**Let me assure you that the Hardy Boys will be in this story. **

**I would love to thank Lady Emily for allowing me to plot with her and for offering her insight as I was writing this little story.**

**I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

The first thing Nancy became aware of when she slowly came to was the fact that she was shivering. She could feel the prickling sensation of goose bumps along her skin, like tiny needles being jabbed repeatedly into her body. That struck her as odd because she was sure she'd dressed warmly before she stepped out of her office to meet with Wesley.

So why was she so cold?

She let out a strangled gasp as the events of the evening came rushing back to her, pounding into her memory in horrid, vivid detail. The basement full of bodies, Alison lying on the table as her blood was slowly being drained from her body, the lights going out in the house, and finally, the horrible realization that Wesley was the killer they'd been searching for. He was the one responsible for the terror being inflicted upon River Heights, not to mention countless other cities. He was the reason Nancy couldn't sleep for the past week and he was now the reason she would probably never see Frank, Joe, and her friends and family again.

Her body ached all over as the last remnants of the electrical charge from the stun gun worked its way out of her system. Now that her eyes were open, the fog clearing from her mind, she could focus on where she was and what kind of situation she was in.

Nancy saw she was back in the basement, the smells of blood and death nearly threatening to make her sick. As it was, she had to breathe through her mouth in order to keep from throwing up. The cavernous room was lit up like a Christmas tree, revealing to her the true horror of what she was looking at now that she didn't have a choice. The bodies hanging around her reminded Nancy of bats nesting in trees, their wings wrapped around their bodies to protect them from the elements. They were wrapped tightly in something that resembled gauze and it was obvious Wesley had taken his time with the process, considering how intricate and pristine the wrappings were. Nancy couldn't help but secretly hope the women were dead as Wesley wrapped them. The thought of them being alive for it was almost too much for her to take.

But she had a sinking feeling that her hopes were for nothing as the autopsies on all of the women revealed they had died as a result of suffocation. Without knowing the exact way they suffocated, Nancy had to wonder if it was a result of the wrappings around their heads.

Now that she knew where she was, Nancy began taking stock of her own situation. Her arms felt as if they were about to be ripped from her body, and she glanced up to see they were fastened above her to a support beam. Thick ropes were looped around her wrists so tightly she couldn't even think about finding any slack. Not to mention, her feet didn't even touch the ground below her. In fact, she found she was at least a good three inches above the floor.

While that was enough to scare her, it was nothing compared to the fear she felt when she realized the reason she had been so cold. She was no longer wearing the clothes she'd left the office in. Instead, she found she was wearing a short silky slip gown that barely went past her thighs, much like the dress she'd seen Alison in. The only difference between hers and Alison's was the color—she'd been dressed in aqua as opposed to white.

All of a sudden, Nancy felt extremely violated. It was one thing to find herself in a vulnerable position, but to know that he'd touched her while she was unconscious, seeing parts of her body that only Frank had seen was enough to send her over the edge. Tears burned at the edges of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She wouldn't let Wesley see her cry.

Taking a deep breath, Nancy tried to get her emotions under control. She wasn't about to feel sorry for herself, no matter how dire her current situation may be. And she knew it was bad—perhaps worse than any trouble she'd ever found herself in. Wesley wasn't some random criminal she was dealing with. He'd been doing this for years. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Nancy wasn't sure how she was going to get out of this one.

"'Welcome to my parlor," said the spider to the fly." Wesley's voice was like silk as he walked down the stairs, smiling at Nancy. It was the same smile he'd given her when she first met him—charming and even a little seductive. Now she found it repulsive and even a little frightening.

"So, this is your parlor?" Nancy asked as he stopped in front of her. "I don't think your friend is going to be too happy when he sees how you've decorated the place."

"My friend won't be back for another week. He'll never know what happened because I'll be gone."

"Off to the next city?"

Wesley held his hands up, shrugging. "I have a schedule to keep up with. My superiors have already granted me a transfer. I'm thinking somewhere warm. Any suggestions?"

"Hell would be a good start."

"That's funny."

"Thank you. I've been told I have a wonderful sense of humor." Nancy's heart was pounding as Wesley made a slow circle around her, his fingers lightly tracing her midsection. A shudder went through her, making him chuckle. "So, does this make me contestant number six in your twisted game?"

"Six?"

"I freed Alison before you could kill her. I have to assume that I'm taking her place. Add that to the fact that we've already found three bodies and you have two more in here. Simple math tells me that I'm number six."

"Is that what you think?" Wesley stopped in front of her once more. Even though Nancy was suspended in the air, he still stood about three inches above her. "You know what happens when you assume, Nancy."

"Yes. I think I end up making an ass out of you."

"Close, but I'm afraid you're the one who will look foolish."

"What are you talking about?"

Wesley smiled, and this time, there was no charming quality to it. "You didn't really think she was going to get away from me, did you? She was very weak. The poor girl could barely walk. I hear blood loss will do that to a person."

Nancy schooled her features, refusing to let Wesley see any trace of fear on her face. It wasn't necessarily fear for herself, but the innocent girl she thought she'd saved. She only hoped that he was messing with her and that Alison had gotten away. It was the only way Nancy was going to be able to maintain her composure, thinking that at any moment the police were going to burst in and stop Wesley before he could kill her.

"You don't believe me?"

"It's not that I don't believe you," Nancy said. "It's that I don't _want _to."

"Let's see what I can do to change that." Walking across the room, Wesley pulled the white sheet from the table, revealing Alison, lying still as death.

Nancy couldn't stop her gasp as she glanced at Alison. The lighting in the room made her look completely washed out, almost as if she was translucent. Her dark brown hair stood out in stark contrast against her pale skin. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her hands bound together. Nancy fought hard to keep the bile from rising to her throat. Alison very much looked like the picture of death.

So, it came as a complete shock to her when she saw the girl move, making a soft sound.

"I saved the best part for you."

"What are you talking about?"

Wesley reached under the table and pulled out a wooden basket. Setting it beside Alison's feet, he rummaged through it, pulling out rolls of white material that looked like gauze from Nancy's vantage point. She realized immediately what he was about to do, and by some miracle, she still managed not to get sick.

He was about to wrap up Alison's body, just like all the others.

"I've never had an audience before," Wesley said, smiling at Nancy. "It's actually a little exciting."

Nancy shook her head. "I'm not going to watch you do this."

"Yes, you are."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

Wesley picked up one of the rolls, stretching the material out as his fingers found the edge. Unlike gauze, it stretched out. Nancy's mind immediately went to the adhesive medical wrap she'd seen before in pharmacies. "You're curious. About me, about how I go about my killings. It's a morbid curiosity, but you have it."

Nancy swallowed hard, hating that he was right. She was curious about him and how he went about killing his victims. That didn't mean she wanted a front-row seat to the event though. She wished to everything she could free herself and stop him from completing his ghastly task. "You can't do this to her, Wesley…she's still alive."

"They were all alive, Nancy. Do you know what creature I always found the most interesting?" Wesley asked as he began wrapping the tape around Alison's feet, causing the girl to whimper as she tried her best to pull away from him. Nancy noted that he took his time, smoothing out any creases that formed.

"I don't care what it is you find interesting, you sick freak."

"Spiders," Wesley answered as if she didn't speak. "They're beautiful, highly misunderstood creatures. They don't kill because they're evil—they do it in order to survive. And the way they kill isn't cruel."

"How can you say that?" Nancy asked, watching as Wesley wound the tape up Alison's legs. It was hard for Nancy to stay calm as Alison tried her best the fight him. As it was, she was barely making any progress—like a bug trying to break through glass in order to get inside. "The insects suffer before they're killed. Getting caught in the web, struggling to get free…"

"The spiders actually inject venom into their victims so they don't suffer any longer than necessary."

"Is that why you drain the blood out of your victims? To keep them from suffering as you mummify them?"

"Yes." Wesley tossed the empty tape roll across the room before reaching for another one. Before he continued, he looped a chain around Alison's ankles, lifting her off the table with several turns of a lever until she was suspended in the air, much like Nancy. Alison let out a startled yelp before it turned into sobs—a wailing sound that a human being should never be capable of making.

Nancy tried to ignore the few drops of Alison's blood dripping to the ground, the sound almost echoing in the otherwise silent room. "That still doesn't explain why you wrap up your victims."

"I do it, because like a spider, I crave perfection. A spider never will go after an insect that is already dead, because they aren't perfect. But once that living organism hits their web, they strike." Wesley glanced at Nancy. "The moment the women I kill take their last breath, they're absolutely perfect. I want to preserve that."

"That's sick."

Wesley ignored her as he continued with his work. While he was distracted, Nancy glanced up at the ropes around her wrists, trying to see if there was a break anywhere that she could play with. She wasn't even sure if she'd be able to use her fingers to pull at the knots, considering her arms were numb from holding her body weight. Without the use of her feet to provide the necessary relief or traction, she was pretty much at a standstill.

"What are you thinking about, Nancy?"

Nancy turned her attention back to him, seeing that he was now at Alison's chest, holding her arms in place as he pressed them against her body. He ignored the girl as she moaned pitifully. The way he was wrapping her reminded Nancy of the Egyptian mummies she'd seen when she'd traveled in Egypt. "I'm just trying to understand how someone with a successful career, someone who seems completely balanced can do this and live with himself."

"Because I don't look like the typical monster?" Wesley's tone held a hint of amusement. "I do this because I enjoy it."

"Why?"

Wesley shrugged. "I'm not really sure I can answer that. I like the feeling of control, knowing that I have the power to hold a person's life in my hands."

"Again, we return to the argument that you're sick."

"I'm not." Wesley turned the lever once more, lowering Alison back down to the ground. Nancy noticed that only her neck and head remained unwrapped. Reaching for another roll of tape, he knelt down next to the dying girl. Her brown eyes were wide as she shook her head from side to side, tears streaming down her face. "After years of studying the criminal mind and never truly understanding why they kill, I decided the best way was to try my hand at it. After the first kill, I understood."

"Understood how?" It was becoming more difficult for Nancy to maintain her composure, her heart breaking at the inability to do anything for Alison. What Wesley was doing to her, what he'd done to the other girls—what he would eventually do to _her_—was nothing short of torture. There simply was no reason to keep them alive as he wrapped them up—it was nothing more than a perverse pleasure for him.

"It's a feeling that can't be can't be described. After the first kill, it becomes a craving."

Nancy was about to answer when Wesley's phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, a slow grin spread across his face as he glanced at the screen.

"Looks like someone has noticed you haven't made it back home, Nancy."

"Frank…" For the first time, Nancy felt hope flare up in her chest. She'd left a note for Frank and Joe telling them where she was. It made sense that they would call Wesley when she didn't return. She had no idea what time it was, but it had to be late enough for Frank to be worried. "I left a note for them. They know I'm with you."

"I'm not worried about that." Wesley ignored the phone as he wound the tape tightly around Alison's face, muffling her cries. Pretty soon, it stopped ringing, along with Alison's moans, plunging the basement into silence once again. There was no doubt in Nancy's mind that the girl was now dead. "They don't suspect me. After all, I'm a trusted agent of the FBI helping out on a very challenging and difficult case."

Nancy realized with a sinking feeling that he was right. Frank and Joe had no reason to suspect Wesley—he'd been that careful and charismatic.

Tossing the wrapping back into the basket, Wesley grabbed a roll of silver duct tape. Nancy thought he was going to return to Alison, but instead, he walked towards her, pulling the end of the tape free from the roll.

"What are you doing?" Nancy asked.

"Well, it's obvious that Frank and Joe are worried about you. I'm going to call them back and assure them I saw you safely to your car." Wesley tore a piece off, putting it across her mouth. Smoothing the edges with his thumbs, he held her face in his hands, staring directly into her eyes. "I can't very well have you yelling in the background, can I? That would ruin the whole charade."

Nancy glared at him as he pressed a button on his phone before bringing it to his ear. Before she could even think about making a sound, a knife suddenly appeared in his other hand and he pressed it against her throat.

"Hey, Frank. This is Agent Levine. Sorry I missed your call, but I was in the middle of something." Wesley smiled at Nancy. "What's up?"

Nancy couldn't help but be impressed as she listened to Wesley. She wasn't sure what Frank was saying on the other end, but the agent in front of her was certainly playing his part and selling it for everything he was worth.

"Nancy's not there?...She came over here and we discussed the case, but she left over two hours ago. I watched her as she got into her car…She told me she was going back to the office…And you're sure she hasn't returned? Could she have gone home?...No, I don't mind. I'll head right over to your office…Just try to stay calm, okay? There could be a perfectly logical explanation why she's not there…I'll be there in thirty minutes."

Wesley hung up the phone, his eyes shining brightly. "How was that for a performance?" Removing the knife from Nancy's throat, he tossed it on the table and walked back over to Alison's body. "Oh, and in case you're wondering about your car, I got rid of it. Just one more thing that can't be traced to me."

Grunting through the tape, Nancy struggled against the ropes, swaying back and forth as she watched Wesley pick Alison up and toss her over his shoulder.

"You'll have to forgive me for not removing the gag, Nancy. I wouldn't want you to disturb the neighbors with your cries for help, especially this late at night." Walking towards the stairs with his bundle, he gave Nancy one more chilling smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have to drop off the lovely Alison before I meet with Frank and Joe. Anything you would like me to tell them for you?"

Wesley chuckled as he made his way up the stairs, his feet pounding heavily against the wood as he carried his precious cargo. Nancy screamed angrily through the tape but he ignored her before plunging the basement into darkness, the door slamming shut behind him.

* * *

**As you can see, it's going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. I had someone wondering why I revealed the killer in the first chapter and it's because I'm picking this story up in the middle, as opposed to writing it from the very beginning. I wanted to write a short story so this is my attempt at that.**

**I am so overwhelmed by the response. I would love to take the time to thank the following for their lovely reviews: Mrs. Frank Hardy **_**(Glad you are enjoying it!)**_**, Michelle Gallichio **_**(I hate spider as well…ever since I wrote this story, I swear they are following me everywhere!)**_**, Caranath **_**(yep, Lady Emily and I are in cahoots!)**_**, lys **_**(I will be updating Runaway as well)**_**, ILoveMom **_**(I don't think it's gory, but everyone has a different definition of the word…)**_**, Lady Emily **_**(You know how much I appreciate you for everything!)**_**, hlahabibty **_**(I hope my explanation above helped with why I revealed Wesley as the killer so early)**_**, Alicia Hardy **_**(Cliffies are my evil specialty…sorry!)**_**, SaraE7191 **_**(Thank you so much!)**_**, zenfrodo **_**(Sorry for the nightmares! Should I be worried that I write such scary villains?)**_**, Cupcake **_**(I will be delving into Wesley and all his horribleness!)**_**, SC15 **_**(Glad you like my stories!)**_**.**

**Once again, I would love to thank Lady Emily—you so totally rock!**

**Next update coming tomorrow! Please let me know what you think! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Frank Hardy hung up the phone, tapping it lightly against his chin as his mind played over the phone call with Special Agent Levine. The older Hardy prided himself on being calm and collected, not one to give in to moments of panic. In his line of work, he had to keep his head, no matter what the situation.

For the first time in a very long time, Frank felt himself on the verge of panic.

When he and Joe had first returned to their office, after chasing yet another dead end, a momentary flare of panic had seized him when Nancy was nowhere to be found. That feeling quickly went away as the logical part of his brain told him she had probably headed back to the apartment, especially considering it was ten o'clock by the time they'd made it back to the office. He'd called the apartment, only to receive no answer. Still he remained calm, thinking maybe Nancy was asleep and couldn't hear the phone ringing. He'd then tried her cell phone, only to have it go straight to voicemail.

Knowing how on edge Frank was about the murders, Joe had offered to drive over to the apartment. When he'd returned back to the office, the look on his face told Frank exactly what he needed to know—Nancy wasn't there. Somehow, Frank had managed to continue to remain calm, even though a bad, sinking feeling was forming in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't until Joe had discovered the note Nancy had left them that he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

He felt silly after that, never thinking to look for something as mundane as a note—an actual handwritten note. It didn't surprise him that Nancy would write a note, especially if she didn't want to bother them while they were in the middle of an investigation. But even with Nancy's reassurance that she was discussing the case with Wesley, it still did nothing to alleviate Frank's fears. He'd immediately called the agent, only to be given the news he'd been dreading.

"_She came over here and we discussed the case, but she left over two hours ago. I watched her as she got into her car…"_

Nancy was missing.

"Frank?" Joe's voice was hesitant as he watched Frank.

"She's not there," Frank said softly, tossing his cell phone onto the table. It was still littered with Nancy's notes and crime scene photos. "Wesley said she left over two hours ago."

"That still doesn't mean anything, Frank. Maybe her car broke down. Maybe her cell phone died and she's unable to call us."

"Or maybe, the killer has her. Maybe her body will be the next one we find, Joe." Frank ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. All of a sudden, he lashed out, shoving the papers off the table. He watched with detached interest as a few of the papers glided slowly to the floor. "What the hell were we thinking, leaving her alone?"

Joe ignored his brother's outburst. "You act as if she was taken from here, Frank. She was perfectly safe here and you know it. Besides, we have no proof that she's missing. You're jumping to conclusions, which is something you never do. Not without hard facts."

"Why would she even go out there alone?"

"Because she wants to put a stop to the murders," Joe said, grinning ruefully. "You know how Nan is on a case—single-minded, focused. She doesn't rest until the case is closed."

"But this case isn't like any of the others, Joe. She knows how dangerous it is, and yet she's willing to risk herself." Frank shook his head. "I swear to you, sometimes I think she does it to see if she can rattle me. I've always told her she'd be the one to send me to an early grave."

"Frank, you can't stand here and blame Nancy for this. We had no reason to believe that there was any danger to her." Joe waved his hand at the papers covering the floor. "The killer has no pattern to his victims—only that they're young women ranging from twenty to twenty-five years old. There's nothing linking their professions or their home lives. He just chooses them at random."

"You think I haven't been following the case? You're telling me everything I already know, Joe."

"Then stop acting like you're angry with her for doing her job, for doing her part to put an end to this madness. Every single young woman in River Heights is at risk, not just Nancy."

Frank let out a sigh, leaning against the counter. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. I usually always am."

"Seriously?"

"I said usually," Joe said, scowling.

Frank smiled, despite himself, grateful for his brother and his ability to keep him focused. "Okay, so we need to treat this as any other case. We need to call the police and report Nancy missing."

Joe frowned. "The police won't formally launch a missing person's investigation until the person has been missing for forty-eight hours. You and I both know that, Frank."

"Nancy doesn't have forty-eight hours, if we're correct in assuming the killer has her." He glanced at the clock to see it was approaching midnight. "In fact, if the time table stays true to the recent murders, we should be finding her body very shortly."

Joe didn't get to respond to that as a knock sounded at the door. Letting out a sigh, Joe opened it to reveal Special Agent Levine. The agent looked completely frazzled as he stormed inside, his eyes taking the in the office before settling on the papers scattered around the table.

"What happened? Was Nancy taken from here?"

Frank shook his head. "No…that was me working on some anger management issues. If you'd showed up a few minutes later, you would have seen a hole in the wall."

"There still isn't any sign of her?"

"No."

"Did you try her cell phone?"

"It keeps going straight to voicemail," Joe said.

Wesley visibly paled as he sank down into one of the chairs. "This is all my fault. I never should have let her leave by herself."

_Oh, great,_ Frank thought in exasperation. _Yet another person to carry around some guilt. Why don't we just stop everything and throw ourselves a pity party?_ "It's not your fault, Wesley. Joe and I don't blame you."

"I should have followed her back here and made sure she made it back safely," Wesley went on as if Frank didn't speak.

"We're not helping Nancy by sitting here and blaming each other," Joe pointed out. "We need to figure out what our next move is going to be."

"We don't know what our next move is going to be because we don't know where the hell Nancy is, Joe," Frank said dejectedly. "Sure, we can call the police, but are they really going to be able to do anything? They're just as baffled with this case as we are."

Joe turned his attention to the FBI agent. "Did Nancy say anything to you? Did she have an idea of who the killer may be?"

Wesley shook his head. "We just spent our time going over all of our notes, seeing if we could spot something we may have missed."

"Did you?"

"No."

"Nancy doesn't have time for us to sit here and discuss everything we already know," Frank said, pulling his jacket on.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked.

"I'm going to go out and see if I can find anything. Being out there, looking, is a hell of a lot better than sitting here doing nothing."

"You don't even know where to look, Frank," Wesley argued. "It would be just another wild goose chase."

"Do you have a better suggestion?" Frank waited for Joe or the agent to say something, but they both remained silent. "I'll start at the previous crime scenes. Maybe there's something we missed."

Joe opened his mouth to argue, but shut it quickly at Frank's challenging glare. Frank grabbed his keys and walked towards the door just as Wesley's phone rang. The agent quickly pulled it out of his pocket, answering it before it could get to its third ring.

"Special Agent Levine…._Son of a bitch_. Where?...Yeah, I'll be right there. Thanks."

"What happened?" Frank asked, dread once again consuming him. He was almost afraid he wasn't going to like the answer.

"The call just came in to the station," Wesley said softly. He locked eyes with Frank. "Another body was found."

Frank felt as if someone sucker punched him in the gut. He didn't realize he was biting the inside of his mouth until he tasted the coppery tang of blood. "Where?" His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.

"River Heights Bus Station."

* * *

Joe couldn't help but keep a close eye on Frank as they pulled to a stop in front of the bus station. The night was aglow in flashing red and blue lights, curious onlookers being pushed back behind a barricade comprising of yellow police tape. News station vans were parked across the street, begging a sound bite from any police officer or bystander.

The brothers got out of their car just as Wesley pulled in beside them. They followed the agent as he led the way to the crime scene, flashing his badge at the officer assigned to stand guard. Ducking under the yellow tape, they walked past the ticket counter and pushed through a set of glass doors. Exiting on the platform, they were instantly met with a crowd of people, ranging from officers, detectives, witnesses, and the medical examiner.

Joe could feel the tension radiating off of Frank, knowing his brother was about to burst from anticipation. Wesley excused himself to join the group of people converging around what he supposed was the body.

"Frank. Joe." Chief McGinnis appeared at their side. "What are you boys doing out here? Where's Nancy?"

"Have you found out who the girl is?" Frank asked, refusing to look at the chief as he watched Wesley speak to a detective.

"Not yet. Are you okay, Frank? You look a little sick."

Joe stepped forward, taking Chief McGinnis by the arm as he pulled him away where they could have some privacy. He kept his voice low as he explained to the chief about Nancy and their suspicions that the killer had her. He tried to keep the fear out of his voice, but now that they were faced with a body, there was every possibility that it could be Nancy.

"Why are you just now telling me about this?" McGinnis demanded, the color slowly draining from his face. Joe knew how close he was to Nancy, looking to her as the daughter he never had.

"We were trying not to panic, hoping she just got held up. Maybe her car broke down or something."

"She would have called by now."

"Maybe her phone was dead."

"That sounds like way too many maybes to me." Pushing past Joe, McGinnis walked towards the body. "I need someone to tell me who the hell our victim is."

"I need to get her back to the morgue before I'll be able to make an identification," the coroner said patiently.

"Now!" McGinnis barked.

The coroner shot him an irritated look, finally letting out a sigh when McGinnis didn't back down. Nodding to his technician, they slowly and meticulously cut away at the bandages covering the girl's face.

Joe could feel Frank tensing beside him as they waited with bated breath, waiting for the confirmation they were fearing. Time seemed to literally stand still as silence resounded all around them. Even as Chief McGinnis turned and walked towards them, it was as if he was walking in slow motion.

"It's not her," McGinnis said softly, relief evident on his weathered face. "It's not Nancy."

Frank stumbled just a bit as the chief's words registered with him. "Oh, thank God…"

"I'm sure Nancy will turn up. The two of you need to go home in case she shows up." He gave Frank a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. "There's nothing the two of you can do here tonight. Call me as soon as she arrives. Understand?"

Joe nodded at the chief. He gave Frank a gentle nudge. "Come on…let's get out of here."

Frank nodded reluctantly, allowing Joe to lead him away from the platform. Once they were settled in the car, Frank let out a shaky sigh.

"This is good news, Frank. It's not Nancy."

"Then where the hell is she, Joe?"

"I don't know," Joe admitted as he started the car.

He had to drive slowly as to not hit any of the bystanders before he was able to pull out onto the highway. The brothers drove in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Joe knew Frank was still worried out of his mind about Nancy. And while Joe was worried about her as well—he considered her like a sister—he was also worried about his brother, knowing how much he'd stress himself out until he knew where she was.

All of a sudden, Frank sat up in his seat as if he'd been shocked. He was staring out the front windshield at something in the distance, the headlights reflecting off of something red.

"Frank, what is it?" As he got a little bit closer, Joe realized it was the taillights of a car, pulled off to the side of the road.

"Joe, doesn't that look like…?"

Frank didn't have to finish his sentence as Joe knew immediately what he was going to say. The brothers exchanged an uneasy look as Joe pulled the car up behind the abandoned one. There was no mistaking the baby blue Mustang that sat there, the passenger door hanging open as the dome light flickered inside.

They had just found Nancy's car.

* * *

**Thank you again for the wonderful response: ILoveMom **_**(Thank you so much for your kind words!)**_**, Alicia Hardy **_**(I can't post every twelve hours—it would mess up my timetable! Sorry!)**_**, Caranath **_**(You really shouldn't read this on an empty stomach…it's only going to get a lot more creepier…)**_**, Mrs. Frank Hardy **_**(Yay for being creeped out—and no, don't turn into a psycho!)**_**, Stork Hardy **_**(Hope you keep enjoying the story!)**_**, lys **_**(Breathe! Breathe!)**_**, SC15 **_**(Thank you so much. I sometimes worry about how I write my villains…)**_**, hlahabibty **_**(The boys won't figure it out immediately—Wesley is just that good)**_**, **_**(Glad I could give you a scare!)**_**, rangermaid **_**(So glad I could make your day!)**_**, SarahE7191 **_**(I wanted to give you guys a creepy one for Halloween!)**_**, and Michelle Gallichio **_**(Thank you so much!)**_**.**

**And a huge thanks goes out to Lady Emily for being an awesome beta!**

**I would also like to thank everyone who has added me to the alert and favorites lists! I really appreciate it!**

**Let me know what you guys think and the next update will be tomorrow!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Frank's body seemed to move on its own volition as he got out of the car and stumbled towards Nancy's abandoned one. He knew he was actually there, but he didn't feel as if he was. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, as if he was watching the scene from far above. It was a nightmare and at any moment he expected to wake up, finding Nancy in bed beside him, safe and sound.

But he knew this wasn't something he could just snap his fingers and awake from. This was real—as real as the smooth, cool metal beneath his hand as he ran them along the chassis of the car. He'd been so relieved almost to the point of passing out when he'd found out the girl at the bus station wasn't Nancy. That confirmation gave him the hope—even if it was the slightest—that she was okay and he was just overreacting.

The blue Mustang abandoned on the side of the road brought all those fears crashing back. Even if the car broke down, Nancy would have taken care of making sure the car was locked up tightly before she left it. The car had been a sixteenth birthday present from her father and she took great pride in the vehicle. It had been through so much with her—it had been vandalized, blown up, shot at, and wrecked. The car had always been an extension of her, but now, with it left on the roadside, it was like a punch in the stomach.

Joe came around and joined Frank, handing his brother a flashlight. Frank took it without a word, his body instinctively going into detective mode. He had to keep telling himself that this was just another case, that Nancy was just another client—it was the only way he would be able to maintain his sanity. Turning the beam on, Frank played it around the ground, looking for any telltale signs of a struggle.

"It doesn't look like she was hit from behind," Joe said a few moments later, his breath clouding in front of him in the chilly October air. "That would have been the easiest way to subdue her."

Frank wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried. If she wasn't forced off the road, then why did she pull over in the first place? It's not something Nancy would do unless she had no choice, whether it was against her will or she needed to check up on something. Frowning, Frank walked over to the passenger side, his eyes narrowing.

"Hey, Joe…come look at this." Frank ran the beam of the light along the dirt on the shoulder of the road. "Does that look like drag marks to you?"

Joe joined his brother, kneeling down with his flashlight. After a few seconds, he nodded. "Looks like signs of a struggle. There are footprints here, too."

_Good girl,_ Frank thought. _At least you put up a fight._ He continued to the passenger side, the light bouncing along the interior. Nancy's purse was lying on the floorboard, the contents spilling out. Using a tissue from his pocket, he rummaged around, but didn't see any sign of her cell phone.

"Frank, I think I see some blood."

Fear shot through Frank as he moved away from the car, joining Joe a few yards away. Under the beam of Joe's light, a few drops of a dark substance mixed in with the dirt. Frank tried to convince himself that it was oil from a car, but it was much too big a coincidence to be anything other than blood.

Nancy's blood.

"This doesn't necessarily mean anything, Frank," Joe said, gently. "There's such a small amount here, the killer could have just hit her to get her to stop struggling. Hell, it could even he _his _blood."

Turning away from Joe, Frank walked back to the car. There had to be something there to tell him where Nancy might be, even if it was something small. He couldn't give up hope that the killer may have left something behind. He took his time as he went over every single inch of the interior, looking under floor mats, between the seats, and underneath them. He barely even registered Joe talking on his phone, presumably calling the police to report Nancy's car.

Frank was about to give up on his search when something glinted underneath the brake pedal. Quickly pushing himself out of the passenger side, he jogged around the car and opened the driver's side door. Using the tissue, he reached inside and picked the mysterious item up, holding it up to the beam of the flashlight.

"The police are on their way," Joe said, frowning when he saw Frank. "Did you find something?"

Standing up, Frank studied the object. It was a cufflink—gold with an eagle etched on the surface. Something tugged at his memory, almost as if he'd seen the cufflink somewhere before. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not bring the recollection to the surface. He handed it to Joe without a word.

"You think this belongs to the killer?"

Frank pursed his lips, deep in thought. "Well, it certainly doesn't belong to us. We're not known to parade around in suits. As far as I know, we're the only other men who ride around in Nancy's car."

"It could belong to her father," Joe said, returning the cufflink to Frank.

Wrapping it up in the tissue, Frank stuffed it into his jacket pocket. He didn't want the police to know he'd found it, preferring to keep the evidence to himself. Normally, he'd readily give up any evidence, but something was telling him to withhold sharing it. "I suppose," Frank finally acquiesced.

It was true Nancy's father, Carson Drew, could have possibly lost the cufflink. Being a prominent criminal attorney, he wore suits every day for court. But Frank honestly couldn't remember the last time Carson had been in Nancy's car. Besides, he was sure her father would have said something if he'd misplaced his cufflink.

"You're not going to turn it over to the police?" Joe asked.

Frank shook his head. "No. It's the only clue we have right now and besides, they're too busy with the recent murder to trace something as trivial as a cufflink."

"You've seen it before, haven't you?"

"I think so," Frank admitted. "But for the life of me, I can't remember where."

Joe didn't get to say anything as the sounds of sirens cut through the air, the blue and red strobe lights appearing in the distance as they crested over the hill.

* * *

Nancy must have drifted off sometime during the night, though she couldn't remember when or how, especially with the haunting image of Alison slowly dying in front of her seared into her brain. As soon as Wesley had left her alone in the dark, eerie basement, Nancy allowed herself to cry. Not out of fear or pity, though she was scared to death. She'd be stupid if she wasn't—Wesley was as cold-blooded as they come, not to mention cruel and sadistic.

She'd cried out of anger and frustration—anger for letting herself be charmed by Wesley, anger for stumbling onto his lair, anger at herself for not being able to save Alison, anger at herself for getting caught, anger at herself for being unable to stop him from killing Alison, anger at Wesley for making her watch as he tortured Alison and finally frustration. She was beyond frustrated that she couldn't free herself and stop Wesley from killing any more women. The fact that she was now next on that list only added to her frustration.

And Frank and Joe had no clue—about where she was, about Wesley being the killer. She couldn't even warn them or alert them to her whereabouts. The best she'd been able to do was drop her necklace, but she didn't have any guarantees that they would find it. It was been done out of desperation and hope that somehow, Frank and Joe would come to his house and find it.

When she finally managed to drift off to sleep, it was fraught with nightmares. Several times, she had startled herself awake in a panic, only to find the basement still plunged in darkness, Wesley nowhere to be seen.

So, the next time she was startled awake caught her by complete surprise when she saw the basement was bathed in bright light and Wesley was standing in front of her, smiling.

"Happy Halloween, Nancy. Or should I say trick or treat?"

The fight or flight instinct immediately took over and Nancy kicked out at him as hard as she could, groaning as the effort caused strain to her already numb arms. She took satisfaction in his shocked expression, watching as he stumbled back several steps.

Wesley quickly regained his composure, backhanding her hard across the face. Nancy let out a muffled cry before glaring at him, wishing the look alone would make him drop dead. Amused, he reached forward and ripped the tape away from her mouth, his smile growing as she cried out in pain.

"You look like you might have something to say, Nancy."

Nancy flexed her mouth, her skin tingling where the tape had been ripped off. "Kiss my ass, you son of a bitch."

"You have such a fiery little temper, don't you?" Wesley asked, chuckling as he stepped out of the way when she shot out with her feet, trying to kick him once again. "Maybe that's what Frank Hardy likes about you so much. I can't say that I particularly blame him." He arched a brow, slowly running his tongue over his upper lip. "I bet you're magnificent in bed."

"Don't you talk about him," Nancy said, her voice like ice.

"Why not?"

Nancy ignored him, refusing to let him bait her any further. "What did you do with Alison?"

"I dropped her off at the bus station. Aren't you curious about your boyfriend? I would have thought that would have been your first question." His smile grew when Nancy refused to say anything. "He's a complete wreck, blaming himself for you going missing. Of course, I played my part, blaming myself. After all, I was the last person to see you last night, Nancy."

"You're nothing but a sick bastard."

Nancy knew exactly what he was doing, taunting her, trying to make her feel intimidated and afraid. She wouldn't give in to him. As long as she was still alive, there was still a chance for her to be saved. Not that she liked that prospect any better—Nancy Drew was not one who needed rescuing. She prided herself in being able to take care of herself. But she also wasn't naive enough to realize the odds were not exactly in her favor.

"You should have seen him when we got the call that a body had been found. He was so afraid that it was going to be you." Wesley eyes gleamed with glee as he stared back at Nancy. "You should have seen how relieved he was when he found out it wasn't."

"If I knew you were going to regale me with a monologue, I would have stayed asleep."

"Anxious to know what I have planned for you?"

"I've already seen what you have planned for me. You gave me a front row seat to it, Wesley. Or have you already forgotten?"

"Oh, no, Nancy. You haven't seen anything. I have something much better planned for you."

Nancy tried to keep the fear off of her face as she stared back at him. What could he possibly have planned for her? Every previous victim had been killed the same way—bodies almost completely exsanguinated, death by asphyxiation. He hadn't steered away from that pattern of killing yet.

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see."

"Why haven't you killed me yet?"

Wesley turned away from Nancy and walked over to the table, picking up the knife. Turning back to face her, he stared at the blade with fascination before his eyes locked with hers. "You know my pattern, Nancy. In fact, you know me better than most people. You know I only kill the women at night."

"Then why didn't you kill me last night?" Nancy asked, tensing as he stopped in front of her, running the blade along her collarbone. "Why didn't you let me take Alison's place?"

"Because Alison was meant to be number six. You were always meant to be number seven."

Nancy swallowed hard. "Always?"

Wesley nodded. "From the very first moment I saw you, I knew you would be the final victim here in River Heights. There was no other choice for me." Strolling behind her, Wesley ran his hands along her arms, making her shudder. "Lucky number seven."

Before she even knew what he was planning, she felt the knife cut through the rope holding her prisoner. She collapsed to the ground in a heap, her legs unable to support her weight after being trussed up for so long. She noticed her hands were still tightly bound, but none of that mattered as she turned on her back, staring up at him as he loomed over her.

"There's no escape, Nancy, so don't even think about trying to get away from me."

Nancy maintained eye contact with him as she slowly scooted back away from him. She knew in the back of her mind that this was probably going to be her only chance to get away. She had to wait for the right moment—one mistake and that would be it. She let Wesley pull her up by her bound hands, her feet somehow staying underneath her.

"I never told you how beautiful you looked in your dress," Wesley murmured, his eyes running lazily along her body as he ushered her backwards. A quick glance told her that he was taking her to the table where she'd found Alison. "I picked the color just for you. It brings out your eyes."

Seeing her only chance to fight back, Nancy head butted him, making him let go of her as he let out a startled yell. Before he could regain his balance, Nancy launched out with her foot, nailing him in the stomach. She wasted no time making a break for the stairs, the open door beckoning her forward.

"You stupid bitch!"

Wesley didn't even let her make it up the third step before he tackled her, her head hitting the wood with a sickening thud. Somehow, it only stunned her, spots dancing in front of her eyes as he jerked her to her feet and dragged her to the table. He threw her bodily onto it, taking advantage of her disoriented state as he grabbed the ropes around her wrists and lashing them above her head, pulling tightly until she let out a cry of pain. Then moving down to her ankles, he repeated the process, strapping them down to either end.

Nancy felt tears sting the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She was truly and utterly screwed, and she knew it.

"Do you feel better now that you got that out of your system?" Wesley's tone was mocking as he smiled down at her. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "As much as I'm angry at you for your little outburst, I have to admit it turns me on. I've never had anyone fight back, Nancy. I may have to do this more often—it's intoxicating."

"Go to hell!"

"Oh, no, sweetie. I have no plans of going there for a very long time." Turning away from her, Wesley walked over to a large free-standing shelf unit. It was the first time Nancy had noticed it, and when he turned the light on above the first shelf, she was glad she hadn't seen it before.

The unit stood at least six feet tall and had to be just as wide. Nancy wondered vaguely how he managed to get it down to the basement, considering this wasn't his home to begin with. She pushed the thought away, her mind registering with mounting horror what she was actually seeing. On the top shelf, there were six glass jars containing a yellowish liquid surrounding a heart.

Actual human hearts.

Picking up one of the jars, he brought it over to Nancy. "Trophies," he said as a way of explanation.

"They're hearts…"

"They are." He stared at it longingly, as a collector would admire a piece of art. "I carry them with me everywhere I go."

"Shouldn't you have a lot more?"

Wesley smiled indulgently. "I only take the hearts from my final victims in each city. I wanted to take yours as well, but I think I've come up with something better."

"What are you talking about?"

Ignoring her, Wesley walked back over to the shelves, placing the jar back into its place. "You truly have no idea how special you are to me, Nancy. I think you're going to bring me the best luck. After all, seven is a very lucky number—and you make victim number seven on my seventh year of killing."

"I'm not interested in being special to you or bringing you luck, Wesley."

"That's too bad. You don't really have much say in it at the moment, do you?" Flipping another switch, the second shelf was illuminated in light. He chuckled as Nancy let out a strangled gasp. "Don't be afraid, Nancy. They'll only harm you if they feel threatened."

Nancy couldn't tear her eyes away from the shelves as the rest lit up one by one, showing similar contents. Glass cases were nestled against each other, revealing a spider in each one. Wesley was taking this spider obsession to a whole new, creepy level. She watched as he ran his hand lovingly along each surface.

"Your immediate reaction is to fear them. But it's like I told you before, they are just misunderstood creatures."

"You can say it all you want. That doesn't make me like them any more than I do now."

"Do you remember when I told you I wasn't going to kill you how I did with the others?" Wesley asked as if she didn't speak. "I told you I had something very special planned for you."

Nancy had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to like what he had planned. And she had a really bad sinking feeling it was going to involve the spiders. Why else would he even show them to her?

"With all the species of spiders in the world, did you know that only a handful is harmful to humans? And out of that handful, only a few are actually fatal. They have to inject enough venom into you in order to kill you." Wesley pulled a case from the shelf and brought it over to Nancy, setting it beside her head.

Nancy couldn't help but flinch as the large brown spider moved around. "Get it away from me."

"This is the Brazilian Wandering Spider. Depending on who you ask, it's the most venomous spider in the world." Wesley knelt down beside the table so he was eye level with the arachnid. "Only the Australian Funnel Web Spider rivals it. Isn't he beautiful, Nancy?"

Shaking her head, Nancy turned away from it. She was so close to losing it, she was practically shivering. She'd always been afraid of spiders—deathly terrified even. She could face down any crazy criminal with no problem, but show her a spider and she would run for the hills.

"What do you say, Nancy? Are you ready to get up close and personal with our little friend?"

* * *

**And we've reached yet another cliffhanger. I would say I'm really sorry about it, but we all know that's not true. I enjoy them—maybe a little too much.**

**As for Nancy's car, yes, Wesley did in fact plant it there, along with the blood and signs of a struggle. The man is extremely craft and knows how to cover his tracks. **

**I would love to thank the following for their reviews: Caranath (You're not vindictive and bloodthirsty at all. You hide it very well!), hlahabibty (Totally normal that you want to kill Wesley!), ILoveMom (Hold on to your seat—it's only going to get bumpier from here!), SarahE7191 (More drama coming your way!), Stork Hardy (Looks like Wesley just made his first mistake…), Mrs. Frank Hardy (Hope you were creeped out with this chapter!), lys (I can't tell you what I have up my sleeve…), SC15 (Yay! I want you to feel the panic along with Nancy's fear! I know I do as I write it!), and Michelle Gallichio (The boys really do need a hug…).**

**Also, I would love to thank Lady Emily for her help!**

**Let me know what you think and I will see you tomorrow!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Nancy knew she needed to distract Wesley—anything to keep him from unleashing the spider. She put her odds against the arachnid as very slim, considering she was tied to table with no hopes of getting away. She didn't know much about spiders, but she knew enough to know she didn't want to get bitten by one, especially one rumored to be so venomous.

"I thought you weren't going to kill me until tonight," Nancy said, still refusing to look at the spider. Instead, she focused on the purpling bruise on his forehead that she had given him when she'd head butted him earlier. She couldn't help but feel pleased with herself. "Aren't you particular about sticking to your timetable?"

"I never said I was about to kill you right now," Wesley said. "The venom from this spider takes a while to move through your system. The first thing you'll experience is intense pain—not just where it bites you, but throughout your body. Then you'll start breaking out in a cold sweat before eventually, you begin having heart problems. And finally, you'll die."

Nancy's hands clenched in tight fists as she pulled against her restraints. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I want you to know what's coming."

"Why?"

"Isn't it better than not knowing?" Wesley reached forward and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at the spider. "Look at him, Nancy."

Nancy bit her lip to keep from crying out, keeping her eyes tightly closed as she still refused to look at the spider.

"Look at him!" Wesley yelled, digging his nails into her chin.

Forcing her eyes open, Nancy glanced at the spider, seeing it rise on its back legs as it scratched at the glass, almost as if it couldn't wait to attack. "Wesley, please…"

Letting go of her chin, Wesley stood up and walked back over to a small cabinet by the shelving unit. Opening the first drawer, he pulled out a pair of thick rubber gloves and a small towel before grabbing an empty jar from the top shelf. Returning to Nancy, he placed the jar on the table and slowly slipped on each glove.

"They're for my protection," Wesley explained, catching her watching with wide eyes. "I wouldn't want the spider to bite _me_, now would I?"

"No, I guess you wouldn't," Nancy muttered, trying not to let the fear show in her voice. It was extremely difficult considering she was petrified with fright.

Removing the lid from the case, Wesley put it on the floor, leaning it against the table Nancy was lying on. Then, taking the small towel, he was about to place it on top of the spider when doorbell rang.

Wesley glanced up, frowning. "Who the hell could that be?"

Nancy didn't care who it was—solicitor, Jehovah's Witness, even the Girl Scouts. Whoever was at the door, she wanted to run right up to them and kiss them for distracting Wesley from the spider.

"Don't you think you need to answer it?" Nancy asked.

Wesley grinned. "And take myself away from you?"

The doorbell rang again, this time more insistent.

"Someone seems really eager to see you," Nancy pressed on, silently praying that he would go. Sure, it only bought her a little time, but she would take anything she could get at this point.

"They'll get the hint eventually that no one is home."

"So, I guess you don't mind if I start screaming?" Nancy asked as the doorbell rang once more. Opening her mouth, she took a deep breath, preparing to let out the most bloodcurdling scream she could muster. Seeing that she was serious, Wesley's hand shot out, covering her mouth, muffling her scream.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Wesley snarled. Using the towel, he stuffed it into her mouth. Reaching down, he picked up the lid and placed it back on the glass case. "We'll pick this up as soon as I get rid of whoever is out there."

Removing his gloves, he threw them down at her feet before hurrying across the basement as the doorbell chimed throughout the house once again. With a little wave at Nancy, he pounded up the stairs, leaving her alone. When she heard the door close behind him, followed by the click of the lock, she finally allowed herself to let go of the whimper she'd been holding in.

* * *

"Maybe he's not home," Joe grumbled as Frank rang the doorbell for the tenth time. He glanced around the neighborhood, the late afternoon sun fading in the distance. Soon, children would fill the streets along with their parents, dressed in costumes and demanding candy from gullible adults.

For a moment, he felt a pang of jealousy, wishing he could be that young again. It was a lot better than dealing with the nightmare of a serial killer on the loose and Nancy missing, very likely being prepared to be his final victim.

The brothers had spent the better part of the morning at the police station, going over every detail of the previous night after finding Nancy's car abandoned at the side of the road. While there had been a sense of urgency to find the person responsible with the first few killings, it was now magnified to panic as they searched valiantly for Nancy, going over every single piece of evidence they had. While the Hardys and Nancy didn't officially work for the police department, they were still treating this case as if she were one of their own.

Joe couldn't help but feel a little concerned about his brother. Frank was working nonstop. In fact, Joe was sure his brother didn't even sleep the previous night, his worry for Nancy gnawing at him. Sure, there had been plenty of times one of them had gone missing—it was a hazard of the job. But a serial killer changed everything. They didn't have the experience and they knew every second counted.

Frank had still refused to turn the cufflink over to the police, which brought them to Special Agent Levine's house. They'd tried to talk to him several times during the day, but the agent had simply been too busy. Not that Joe could blame him—he was just as eager to catch this killer as they were.

"His car is in the driveway," Frank said, breaking Joe from his thoughts.

"Maybe he decided to carpool." Joe shrugged. "Doing his part to save the environment."

Frank sighed as he held his finger on the doorbell. "I'm not in the mood for any of your jokes, Joe."

"No, you're just in a pissy mood."

"Excuse me for wanting to find my girlfriend—who also happens to be one of your best friends and our partner."

Joe was saved from saying anything as the door opened, revealing Wesley. Joe immediately noticed the bruise in the middle of his forehead, almost as if he'd hit it on something.

"Hey, guys," Wesley said, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"What happened to your head?" Joe asked before Frank could speak up.

"What?" Wesley reached up and touched his head, wincing as he found the knot there. "Oh…I was trying to catch my friend's cat. This is his place. I must have banged my head on the desk when the little bastard darted away from me."

"Looks like it hurts."

Wesley shook his head. "I've had worse. So, how did you find out where I was staying?"

"Chief McGinnis told us," Frank said. "Do you mind if we come in?"

"I don't know…" Wesley glanced behind him quickly, hesitating. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"It won't take long," Frank promised. "It's just that Joe and I didn't get a chance to talk to you today and I think we may have found something that might tells us who has Nancy."

"Really?" Wesley looked surprised as he glanced back and forth between the brothers. Finally, he opened the door wider and stepped back. "Come on in. Anything that can put a stop to this whackjob and save Nancy is wonderful."

Joe followed Frank into the house, eyeing the bowl of candy that was sitting by the door. He was tempted to reach out and grab a handful, but stopped when he reminded himself why they were there.

_Nancy._

"So, what did you find out?" Wesley asked once they were seated in the living room. Frank and Joe sat on the sofa while Wesley occupied the ottoman in front of the chair.

"When we were searching Nancy's car last night, we found something that didn't belong to her." Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out a small Ziploc bag that contained the gold cufflink. "We think it may belong to the killer."

Without a word, Wesley took the bag from Frank, frowning as he studied it. For a moment, Joe thought he saw something flash in the agent's eyes, not sure if it was excitement or worry.

"Where did you find this?" Wesley asked after a few moments of silence.

"On the driver's side floorboard," Joe explained. "We think it must have gotten ripped off when the killer was struggling with Nancy."

Wesley nodded. "Why didn't you turn this over to the police?"

"They had enough to worry about, especially with the other girl being found last night," Frank said. "We were trying to get with you all day, but you were busy."

"You really think this belongs to the killer?"

"Well, it's not Nancy's." Joe smirked. "And Frank and I aren't exactly into wearing monkey suits."

Wesley smiled briefly at Joe's joke. "So, why did you bring it to me?"

"We thought, with your resources, you could do something with it," Frank said, his eyes locking with Wesley's. "The River Heights Police Department may be efficient, but they would never be able to give us any possible answers. We thought you could, knowing what solving this case means to you."

"I appreciate that," Wesley said, nodding at Frank before standing up. "Give me a couple of hours and I'll see what I can come up with."

"A couple of hours?"

"It's not something I can just get in five minutes, Frank. I may have better technology and resources at my disposal, but it will still take some time." Wesley put a hand on Frank's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know this killer, Frank. He has a timeline he sticks with—it's been the same with every victim. Nancy has until at least midnight."

"I know, but…"

"I'm going to do everything in my power to bring her back," Wesley continued. "She's a great girl and a hell of an investigator. I don't want to see anything happen to her either, Frank."

Frank looked as if he wanted to argue further, but finally nodded. While normally being the patient of the two, Joe knew how hard it was for Frank to wait when it concerned his family or Nancy.

Wesley stood up and followed them to the door. "Like I said, give me a couple of hours and I'll call you as soon as I know something. The killer probably doesn't realize he left this behind, so we may get lucky and find a fingerprint."

Just as Wesley was opening the door, the sound of something breaking came from the back of the house. Joe turned around, glancing behind him. "What was that?"

"It must be that damn cat," Wesley muttered, his voice colder than Joe had ever heard it before. Joe glanced at him quickly to see the agent's eyes blazing.

"You must really hate that cat," Joe commented.

Wesley snapped out of his mood, smiling slightly. "You think my friend would notice if I gave it to one of the kids tonight?"

"I think one of the parents would notice if their kid's bag got an extra special treat."

"You're probably right." Wesley let out a sigh and held the door open for them. "I guess I better go clean up that mess before someone gets hurt."

"Do you need any help?"

"I've got it. Nothing that a broom and dustpan can't handle." Wesley held the bag up, the cufflink glinting slightly in the late afternoon sunlight. "I'll call you as soon as I know something. Try to relax. We're going to find Nancy if we have to turn over every surface in River Heights."

Frank nodded. "I have no doubt we'll find her. The question is whether we'll find her alive or dead." With that, Frank turned and walked down the sidewalk towards their car that was parked on the street.

Joe glanced after his sibling, a little shocked. He saw Wesley was watching him, just as surprised as he was. "You'll have to excuse Frank. He didn't get any sleep last night and he's really worried about Nancy."

"He has a right to be, Joe." Wesley's voice was soft, his eyes distant as he continued to watch Frank. "This killer is ruthless and sadistic. Nancy will be lucky if she dies quickly."

With that, Wesley turned and walked back into the house, closing the door behind him.

* * *

**And Wesley just made another mistake. We'll see if you guys can pick up on what it was…**

**So, we got some creepiness and some angst in this chapter. And for those of you screaming at the boys, have patience, grasshoppers. I couldn't very well let it end with this chapter, could I? We've still got two more to go!**

**I would love to thank the following people for their reviews: Michelle Gallichio **_**(Let's hope you never run into one of those spiders because what I've read about them are not good!)**_**, SC15 **_**(I hate spiders, too! As soon as I finished writing this story, I swear they were following me everywhere! And yay for me being deliciously evil!)**_**, Mrs. Frank Hardy **_**(I'm kind of curious as to what scenarios you have running through your head…)**_**, SarahE7191 **_**(Thank you for loving it!)**_**, Caranath **_**(Very good thing you don't have a basement…)**_**, Stork Hardy **_**(So happy that you love the cliffhangers! Most people threaten me with death when I end with them…)**_**, Alicia Hardy **_**(More spiders and cliffhangers to come!)**_**, rangermaid **_**(Serious chills are awesome!)**_**, hlahabibty **_**(Yay again for the creepy…I could only get away with this during Halloween!)**_**, and ILoveMom **_**(Stay safe during the storm! I live in a hurricane prone area, so I know all about the dangers with these storms!)**_

**And of course, a huge thanks goes out to Lady Emily for all of her help!**

**Let me know what you think and I'll see you again tomorrow!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Nancy tried not to concentrate on the huge spider beside her, but it was difficult when it seemed to be taunting her as it moved along in its glass case. She'd heard many times that the best way to possibly cure your fears was to face them head-on.

Whoever said that was full of crap.

While she knew it wasn't physically possible, she had a horrible scenario playing out in her head where the arachnid was able to break out of his case and then went over to the shelving unit and released all of his little friends. Of course, the first thing on the menu for them would be the all-you-can-eat Nancy Drew buffet currently laid out on the table. Yes, she knew spiders didn't bite unless they were provoked or threatened. That still didn't stop her mind from going to that horrible nightmare.

That was fear for you.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Nancy tried to keep her mind off the spider. Instead, she decided to try to focus on what was going on just above her, straining to hear any voices. If she could just manage to make some kind of noise, maybe it would alert whoever it was to her predicament. She could have kicked herself for not screaming for help. Why in the world did she have to be stupid enough to tell Wesley what she was going to do?

The problem was, she wasn't really thinking. And that didn't sit too well with her. All she'd wanted was to make Wesley forget about the spider. Nothing else mattered to her. Now that hindsight was coming back to taunt her, she could have kicked herself.

"_So, what did you find out?" _Wesley's voice was slightly muffled, but Nancy could still make out the words.

"_When we were searching Nancy's car last night, we found something that didn't belong to her."_

If Nancy wasn't currently strapped to the table, she was sure her legs would have gone out from under her at the unmistakable sound of Frank's voice. She knew it as well as her own, able to pick it up out of a room full of people. _Frank is here! Frank will find me and this nightmare will finally end!_

Nancy hated feeling so weak, giddy even at the prospect of someone coming to her rescue. She always prided herself in her ability to take care of herself, but there were times she knew even she couldn't save herself.

This was certainly one of those times.

And once again, she was cursing herself for not just outright screaming for help. She could have possibly signed her own death certificate with that mistake.

"_You really think this belongs to the killer?"_ Wesley asked, making Nancy wonder what it was that Frank found.

"_Well, it's not Nancy's."_ Nancy's heart soared at the sound of Joe's voice, and she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. _"And Frank and I aren't exactly into wearing monkey suits. "_

Nancy knew she had to do something to let the brothers know she was there. She was terrified of them leaving, knowing that if they did, she may never see them again. She tried to maneuver the rag out of her mouth, but Wesley had wedged it in there tightly, offering her no wiggle room. Getting her hands and feet free were out of the question as well. He'd bound her so tightly, her skin was raw from where she'd tried to find some slack in the ropes.

"_I'm going to do everything in my power to bring her back."_ Nancy shivered involuntarily at the silky tone of Wesley's voice. _"She's a great girl and a hell of an investigator. I don't want to see anything happen to her either, Frank."_

As much as she didn't want to, Nancy's eyes landed on the glass case beside her where the spider was watching her intently—or at least, he seemed to be. If she couldn't yell at Frank and Joe, then she could certainly make some kind of noise. The glass case offered her that very option, especially with how close it was to the edge. If she could just nudge it a bit, she could make it drop to the floor. Sure, that posed the threat of the spider escaping, but she was more than willing to take that chance.

Grunting softly, Nancy inched the upper part of her body closer to the edge, moving the case just a bit. The ropes bit deeply into her skin, her arms feeling as if they may pop out of their sockets, but still, she continued on. Pain she could deal with. The prospect of never seeing Frank and Joe again, not so much.

Slowly, she pushed the case along until it was just balancing precariously over the edge.

"_Like I said, give me a couple of hours and I'll call you as soon as I know something. The killer probably doesn't realize he left this behind, so we may get lucky and find a fingerprint."_

Panic shot through Nancy as she realized that Wesley was dismissing the brothers. With one last jerk of her body, she managed to push the glass case off the table, the shattering of glass like a cannon going off in the room. Nancy winced, holding her breath as she tried to listen to what was going on above her.

"_What was that?"_

_Yes, Joe! Come find out what the noise was! I'm in here!_

"_It must be that damn cat," _Wesley said, and Nancy didn't miss the anger in his voice. He was going to be seriously pissed after he found out what she did, but she couldn't bother herself to care. She just needed Frank and Joe to find her before it was too late.

_Please, please come find me! Don't leave me here alone!_ Nancy repeated it in her head like it was a mantra, trying to scream through the rag in her mouth.

"_I guess I better go clean up that mess before someone gets hurt."_

"_Do you need any help?"_

"_I've got it. Nothing that a broom and dustpan can't handle."_

_No! No! No! _Nancy began pulling against her restraints in earnest, desperation weighing heavily on her heart. They were going to leave her. They were going to drive away and never realize she was literally underneath their feet the entire time.

"_You'll have to excuse Frank. He hasn't had any sleep and he's really worried about Nancy."_ Joe's voice was apologetic. Nancy had been so wrapped up in her anguish that she didn't hear what Frank had said.

"_He has a right to be, Joe. This killer is ruthless and sadistic. Nancy will be lucky if she dies quickly."_

Nancy tried not to flinch as she heard the door close, the sound reminding her of the final nail being driven into her coffin.

Frank and Joe were gone.

It was extremely difficult for her to hold in her sob, frustration crashing down on her. Tears streamed down her face, running a trail down through her hair. She had been _so_ close to having someone find her, but Wesley had once again managed to turn on his charm, fooling the brothers. She didn't even have the energy to lift her head as the door slammed open above her and Wesley's footsteps came rushing down the stairs.

"What have you done?" he snarled, taking in the destruction below Nancy. His shoes crunched on the shards of glass as he stepped over to Nancy, jerking the rag out of her mouth before grabbing her by the throat. "Do you have any idea how much that spider cost me? How hard it was for me to obtain?"

Nancy fixed him with a cold glare, swallowing hard against his grip. "Oops. Maybe next time, you should pay attention to where you leave things lying around."

Wesley squeezed her throat, smiling as she gasped for air. "What did you think of that conversation up there, Nancy? I know you heard it."

"Go to hell!" She blinked rapidly, trying to quell the fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

"They were standing right over you the entire time, never realizing how close they were." Wesley's eyes glowed as he stared down at her, his smile chilling. "That boyfriend of yours seemed really upset."

"They're going to figure it out, you son of a bitch," Nancy said, gritting her teeth. She took in a lungful of air as Wesley suddenly let her go. "You're really not as smart as you think you are."

"Is that so?" Wesley held up a small plastic bag, showing a cufflink nestled in the corner. "This is what they came over here to talk to me about. Apparently, the killer left it in your car."

"That just sounds like you were sloppy."

"They asked me to find out who it belonged to," Wesley continued. "I told them I would let them know something in two hours."

"You're not going to tell them anything, are you?"

"No." Throwing the bag onto the table, he glanced once more at the shattered spider habitat. "It's a real shame you had to kill my spider. Now, what do you suggest we do about this little problem? I was actually really looking forward to seeing the spider do its work, Nancy. I'm afraid you've left me deeply disappointed."

"I'm sure you'll get over it."

"I will." Wesley smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "I guess we'll just have to go with the next candidate."

Nancy's eyes widened as he walked over to the shelves, tapping his chin with his index finger as he browsed the remaining spiders. She honestly didn't know why it didn't occur to her that he would have a back-up plan. She'd been so focused on getting Frank and Joe's attention that the thought never occurred to her.

"Here it is," Wesley said, practically bouncing on his feet as he found the spider he was looking for. He brought it over to the table, once again placing the case beside Nancy's head so she could see the spider. "The Redback Spider, indigenous to Australia."

At first glance, Nancy thought the spider looked like a Black Widow. It had the same black body, but where the Black Widow usually had an hourglass marking on its underbelly, the Redback had a red stripe running down its back. It would be easy enough to mistake the two arachnids, they were that similar in appearance.

"They say it's one of the most poisonous spiders in Australia. They're so common there, that thousands of people are bitten by them each year—a lot of people don't even realize they're bitten." Wesley smiled as he glanced at Nancy. "It's said that only fourteen people have ever died from its bite."

"Then it seems like my odds are pretty good against it."

Wesley shook his head. "No. They won't be."

"What are you going to do? Keep making it bite me until I die?" Nancy's eyes widened as Wesley continued to stare down at her. "Is that what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to make sure it bites you enough in order for the venom to get into your system," Wesley explained. "Most of the time, these spiders only deliver a dry bite—meaning none of the venom actually enters your bloodstream. Only about twenty percent of people bitten actually suffer from envenomation. Would you care to know about the symptoms from a Redback bite?"

"Not really."

"You'd rather not know what's going to happen to you as the hours drag on?"

"What can I say? I like surprises," Nancy said, flashing him a fake smile. While a part of her was curious about what would happen to her, she'd rather not spend her entire time counting down to the next symptom. She didn't need Wesley to tell her it was going to be horrible.

Wesley smiled as he reached for the rubber gloves he'd discarded earlier when Frank and Joe had interrupted. "So do I."

Nancy had the weird sense of déjà vu as she watched Wesley slowly and meticulously prepare himself for the spider. The jar he'd brought over was still resting on the table beside Nancy and she watched with morbid fascination as he carefully took the spider out of its case before placing him inside the jar. The spider was agitated as it moved around the bottom of it, making Nancy increasingly nervous.

Wesley held up the jar, admiring the spider. "This is the female—she's the one that holds all the power. Did you know that as she mates with the male Redback Spider, she kills him? She actually eats him while in the middle of the mating ritual."

"I think you really need to get another hobby," Nancy muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Why? When you and the other women give me enough pleasure to satisfy my needs?" Wesley let out a wistful sigh as he watched the spider before turning his attention to Nancy. "Now, where would you like her to bite you?"

"You honestly think I'm going to answer that?"

Slipping off one of the gloves, Wesley traced his hand along Nancy's bare leg. "Now, she can either bite you here…" His eyes locked with hers as his hand slowly made its way up her body, pushing her gown up to reveal her stomach. "Or she can bite you here," he added as he traced a slow circle along her navel.

Nancy jerked against the restraints as she tried moving away from him, revulsion sending shivers down her spine. "Don't touch me!"

Wesley's leer grew at her reaction to his touch. "I think you're stomach will do just fine. Your skin is tenderer there, anyway. It won't be as difficult for the spider to puncture your skin."

"Don't do this, Wesley!" Nancy began thrashing around on the table, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had before. There was no way she was going to be able to stop him—the only thing she could think to do was stall in the hopes that they would be interrupted again. "Aren't you worried about all the trick-or-treaters? What will they think when they hear screaming coming from inside here?"

"I'm not worried about them, Nancy. I left a huge bowl of candy outside for them—they're more than welcome to help themselves." Wesley raised the jar, his hand covering the opening as it hovered over Nancy's bare midriff. "As for your screaming, they'll just think I'm watching a horror movie and I have the volume turned up a little too loud. After all, it's Halloween, Nancy."

Before she could argue further, Wesley turned the jar over where the wide lip was facing down. Then he placed it on her stomach, removing his hand at the last moment.

Nancy couldn't stop the whimper escaping from her lips as she felt the spider crawling on her exposed skin. She couldn't help but jerk against her restraints as the tiny legs tickled her skin. The arachnid's movements were frantic as it tried to find a way out of its predicament. Nancy closed her eyes tightly, wishing with everything that she had that the doors would burst open and Frank and Joe would come charging in. She'd never wished for anything more in her life.

"You really need to calm down, Nancy." Wesley's voice was soothing, which only made her want to punch him in the face.

"You really need to kiss my—" Nancy let out a pained scream as the spider finally perceived her as the threat and bit her. Not just once—several times, each bite more excruciating that the last. She felt herself jerking against the ropes, the skin on her wrists and ankles burning from the friction. "Get it off of me! _Please!_"

"Just a few more seconds…"

"No!" Nancy let out a choked sob, hating herself for showing any emotion in front of Wesley. But she wasn't brave enough to hide her pain, especially when it hurt more than anything she'd ever felt before. Sharp bursts of pain erupted on her skin as the spider continued to bite. "Now!"

After what seemed like a lifetime, Wesley finally removed the jar from her stomach. Nancy couldn't even open her eyes, tears running down her cheeks.

"I think she was pissed off," Wesley commented absently. Nancy's eyes jerked open as she felt his fingers brush softly against her stomach where the spider had bitten her. "You've got some nasty bites there, Nancy."

"Just leave me the hell alone, you freak!" Nancy wanted so badly to curl in on herself and protect the rest of her body from him. She let out a startled cry as he suddenly backhanded her, her head jerking to the side from the blow.

"I am not a freak!" Wesley yelled, his eyes blazing. Moving the glass case away from the table, Wesley placed his hands on either side of it, leaning over Nancy. "I know you said you like surprises but I want you to know every excruciating detail of what's going to happen to you."

Nancy shook her head, letting out a soft whimper as pain radiated throughout her body.

Wesley grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "As you can see, you're already experiencing the first symptom—pain. And it's only going to get more intense, Nancy." He glanced down at her stomach, the wounds there glistening under the harsh lights of the basement. "Looks like you're already breaking into a sweat, as well. Pretty soon, you'll start feeling your muscles stiffen, maybe even start having convulsions. Then there's the risk of paralysis if the bite's left untreated and you don't receive the antivenin." His smile was nothing short of sadistic as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" Nancy let out an anguished cry as another wave of pain hit her, this time a little bit more severe. _Oh, God…I really am going to die._

"Because I want you to suffer," Wesley said in a harsh whisper. "Maybe even more than any of the other girls."

"Why?"

"I'm a killer, Nancy. I don't have to have a reason." Leaning down, Wesley ran his tongue along her face, lapping at her tears. "And while you're slowly dying in agonizing pain, I'll wrap you up just like all the others."

Nancy couldn't stop the whimper from escaping her lips as she felt his tongue along her skin. "And where will they find my body?"

Wesley slowly traced a trail of kisses along her cheekbone until his lips brushed against hers. "Who said anything about finding your body, Nancy?"

* * *

**And let the nightmares about spiders begin! If they haven't already…**

**A couple of you wondered why Nancy didn't just scream. I kind of explained it above—yes, I could have had her scream, Frank and Joe rush in and save the day and that's the end of the story. But I couldn't just very well do that…I'm evil, after all.**

**And as for what Wesley slipped up on…you'll find out tomorrow in the final chapter!**

**I would love to thank my following reviewers: Layla _(I love when people yell at the characters!)_, Caranath _(Wesley practices safety…and he's a wuss!)_, Michelle Gallichio _(It's wonderful that you get mad at the villains—it means I'm doing it right!)_, Mrs. Frank Hardy _(Your scenario was definitely creepy! And have patience for the boys…you know they'll come around)_, Jabba1 _(Sorry about the cliffhangers!)_, ILoveMom _(Thank you so much—your comment meant so much to me!)_, Stork Hardy _(Wesley is getting a little sloppy…)_, hlahabibty _(Don't hate the boys! They'll figure it out!)_, SarahE7191 _(I hope I answered your question above!)_, SC15 _(Again, I am so sorry about the spiders!)_, rangermaid _(You know I have to break up the stress and horror with some Joe humor!)_ and bhar _(Too bad it was a different spider that bit her…)_**

**And thank you so much to Lady Emily for all of your help!**

**Let me know what you think and I'll be back tomorrow with the final chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

"Staring at the phone isn't going to make it ring, Frank," Joe said, popping a piece of candy into his mouth.

Frank had lost count an hour ago how many pieces of candy his brother had managed to consume, knowing if Joe had been nothing more than a small child, he would have been clutching his stomach, perched over a toilet as it all came rushing back to the surface. Frank was sure that Joe had a bottomless pit for a stomach, the way he was able to eat. He'd been like that since they were kids, and it still amazed him.

"You're just making yourself sick," Frank said absently. "And I'm not staring at my phone."

"Really? You didn't glance up at me once while you spoke. And if I'm not mistaken, the last time I looked, I wasn't a cell phone."

Frank let out a sigh, finally glancing up at his sibling. Though Joe was grinning, Frank didn't miss the concern in his brother's eyes. Joe would never call attention to it, though, because it would ruin his reputation as the easygoing Hardy. "Why hasn't Agent Levine called yet?"

"Because it hasn't been two hours." Joe looked at his watch. "He still has thirty minutes. If he hasn't called us by then, then I'll give you permission to freak the hell out."

"I'm not freaking out."

"No, but you're pretty damn close to it." Joe sat down across the table from Frank. "You've been quiet ever since we got back from Wesley's. What's up?"

Frank should have known Joe would notice that something was wrong. While Frank prided himself on his ability to mask his emotions and bottle them up, Joe was one of only two people who could see right through it. The only other person who could read him so well was Nancy.

"I'm not sure," Frank finally admitted after the silence seemed to drag on. "I keep thinking that something is off."

"Off how?"

"With Wesley."

Joe looked mildly surprised. "I think you're going to have to explain this one, Frank."

"He seemed as if he was in a hurry to get us out of the house."

"How exactly does that make him off? He's busy with the case, Frank. Maybe he wanted us to get out so he could work."

"Did you notice his expression when I handed him the cufflink?"

Joe nodded slowly. "I thought I was just imagining it—at first, I thought he was excited about potential evidence."

Frank shook his head. "He looked worried. And not only that, he seemed hesitant to let us into the house, like he was hiding something."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too…"

"That's not the only thing that's bothering me, though." Frank reached over for his laptop and booted it up. "He seemed so sure that Nancy had until midnight—the killer wouldn't do anything until then. And that's another thing that's confusing me."

"What do you mean?"

"The killings should have stopped last night—Alison McGill should have been the last victim. The killer always leaves behind three victims that we know of. By taking Nancy, that screws up the pattern—that we know of."

Joe's eyes narrowed as he studied his brother. "What exactly are you saying, Frank?"

"What if there's more?" Frank tapped in a few keys before turning the screen to face Joe. "Since I couldn't sleep last night, I stayed up and did some research of my own. I started looking at other possible victims. And that's what I found."

Taking the computer, Joe scrolled through Frank's notes, his face a myriad of expressions as he read everything. After a few minutes, he looked back up at Frank, his blue eyes wide. "Is this for real?"

Frank nodded solemnly as he took back the computer and typed in another set of commands. "For every city where three women were found dead, four more were reported missing and never found. I don't know why, but the police never made the connection."

"Why didn't you mention any of this to Wesley?"

"Because of this." Frank turned the computer once more so the screen was facing Joe. "In every city where the killer struck, Agent Levine had been transferred there only months prior."

"Maybe the killer was following him around, as a way to taunt him."

"And maybe Nancy just needed a few days away and is holed up in some hotel room on the beach."

Joe shook his head, ignoring his brother's flippant tone. "This doesn't make any sense, Frank. Are you seriously suggesting that Agent Levine is the killer?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting." Frank closed the laptop with a click. "Who better than the agent whose been assigned to the case from the beginning? No one would ever suspect him—he's charming, intelligent, easy to work with. I kept hoping I was wrong about him, but after talking with him tonight, I know I'm right."

"Frank, I—"

"He's the killer, Joe. I _know _it." Frank glanced up at the clock, seeing that it was eight-thirty. It had now been two hours since they'd left Wesley. "He never intended to call us back about the cufflink because it belongs to _him_. And that glass we heard breaking in the house?"

"Wesley said that was the cat."

"There is no cat, Joe. I didn't see the litter box, or smell it, for that matter. Besides, we've owned a cat before. There would have been hair all over the furniture, but the house was spotless." Frank stood up, grabbing his jacket. "Nancy's in that house. She's the one who made that noise and we should have investigated it further."

Joe's eyes widened slightly as Frank's words sunk in.

"If Wesley realizes we're on to him, then his timetable may move up. Nancy may no longer have until midnight."

* * *

Nancy felt as if a bus had come along and run her over repeatedly. Her entire body was nothing but a study in pain, her stomach an agonizing ball of fire. She'd been poisoned before, but it was nothing like this.

This was Hell—she was sure of it.

The last hour or so had been nothing but severe bouts of pain, followed by nausea and vomiting. Whatever she had eaten in the last week was entirely gone. There was no way she could say the last twenty-four hours, because that had been forced up the first time she'd thrown up. At least Wesley had been considerate enough to loosen the ropes where she could at least throw her head to the side every time a bout of nausea hit her.

She wasn't sure when she'd finally managed to lose consciousness, but she'd been grateful for it because at least it meant she'd have a break from the pain as the spider's venom worked its way throughout her bloodstream.

Her break was short-lived as Nancy was jerked back to awareness as another sharp pain hit her, but this time it wasn't in her stomach. She opened her eyes to see that Wesley was pulling a syringe away from her arm, the point of the needle stained red with her blood.

"What are you doing?" Nancy asked in a raspy voice. She hoped he wasn't giving her anything else—she wasn't sure how much more of the pain she could take.

"I gave you a dose of the antivenin."

Nancy smirked, grimacing as it turned into a wince of pain. "Doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose of killing me?"

"I didn't say I was saving you, Nancy. I still have every intention of killing you. I'm just trying to slow it down a little." Wesley threw the syringe across the room. "When I made the spider bite you, I never should have let it go as far as I did. I was angry at you and I wanted to punish you."

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I've never before let any of my victims suffer the way I have forced you to. As I drained their blood, they simply grew sleepy. There was no pain, no suffering. The only time they suffered was when I cut off their air supply as I was wrapping their bodies. But even that was very brief since they were already so close to death."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Wesley frowned. "I guess I need you to understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why I do this."

Nancy closed her eyes tightly against another stab of pain. "You told me why you do this, Wesley. You wanted to know why people murder other innocent people."

Wesley sighed as he reached down and grabbed the basket from under the table Nancy was lying on. Pain was now interspersed with alarm as she realized what he was preparing to do to her. "Maybe that was it at first, Nancy. But if that was the only reason, I could have stopped at any time. But I didn't. Every year when it approached Halloween, I felt the desire to kill again. It's like a disease, in a way."

"Why did you pick the week of Halloween?"

"It's the time of the year where the monsters get to come out, and people tend to overlook them."

Nancy watched as he slowly took out his tools, placing them on the table around her feet. "What do you do with your victim's blood, once you drain them?"

A boyish grin flashed across Wesley's face as he glanced at her. "I know what you're expecting me to say—maybe I drink it or do something with it that's just as equally disgusting. The truth is, I just throw it out. Their blood means nothing to me."

"Are you planning on draining my blood?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I want you whole, Nancy. Complete." Picking up a roll of the bandage tape, Wesley found the end and stretched it out, smiling at her. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he slowly untied one of her feet before moving on to the other foot. He took his time, as if he expected her to lash out at him as soon as she was free.

While every instinct was telling Nancy to kick out at him and try to disarm him, she managed to remain still. Sure, she could kick him, but what would that achieve? Her hands were still bound tightly above her head and she wasn't even sure if she had the energy to attack him because of the spider venom.

Nancy managed to keep that resolve until he brought her feet together and was about to begin the wrapping process. She wasn't sure what it was, maybe her last remaining ounce of adrenaline, but suddenly her feet were kicking out at him, landing blow after blow as she tried to stop him from enfolding her in the constricting tape.

Wesley said nothing, patiently taking each hit. Nancy couldn't understand why he didn't try to stop her, why he was allowing himself to be subjected to the abuse. As she began to tire from the exertion, she knew why. He was waiting for her to wear herself out, knowing she wouldn't be able to fight for long.

"Are you finished?" Wesley asked softly.

Nancy said nothing, her breathing ragged as she stared up at the ceiling, tears welling up in her eyes. Once again, she felt Wesley take her feet and hold them together as he slowly began winding the bindings around her. She was surprised with how gently he was doing it, almost as if he was afraid of hurting her any further. Nancy had used the bandage tape before when she had sprained her ankle, remembering how constricting the fabric was. She couldn't even move her feet, not even a centimeter.

"I know you're afraid, Nancy," Wesley said as he wound the tape around her ankles. With each passing loop of the fabric, his hand would trace over it, smoothing out any wrinkles. "When it comes to your fear, you're no different from the others. You've just managed to put yours behind a wall full of defiance and bravado."

"I never said I wasn't afraid. You think I want to die?"

"No. No one wants to die, Nancy." He grabbed another roll as he made his way to her calves. "We all entertain the fantasy of living forever."

"That's not possible. No one has the ability to live forever."

"But I can bring you close to it. By wrapping up my victims, I preserve them as they are today—young, beautiful. You've never looked as beautiful to me as you do in this moment, Nancy."

Nancy tore her gaze away from Wesley, wincing as he began winding the tape around her thighs. Her eyes landed on the other women he'd killed, hanging upside down in the basement. Soon, she was going to be one of them.

"What happened to all of your other victims?"

Discarding another empty roll, Wesley walked around to the head of the table. It wasn't long before Nancy felt relief in her arms as he released the rope tethering her to the table, her hands remaining bound together. He helped her sit up before he gathered her hair and began braiding it. "They're all hanging in buildings or basements, quite like this one."

"Why would you leave them like that?" Nancy asked, horrified as realization set in. "The police believe you only kill three women in each city, don't they? They have no idea about the other girls. But they had to notice there were other missing people, didn't they?"

"Of course they did. But they had no evidence to tie any of the missing women back to me—or the killer, I mean."

"But their families…all this time, not knowing."

Wesley finished braiding her hair and tied it off before gathering it into a loose bun at the base of her neck. Walking back to the foot of the table, he reached up and grabbed the chain he'd used on Alison and looped it around Nancy's ankles. "Sometimes it's better not knowing, Nancy."

"How can you say that?" Nancy let out a startled gasp as he began winding the lever, lifting her off the table and into the air so that she was hanging upside down. "It's had to be pure hell for those families, not knowing what's happened to their daughters."

"Would you rather your family know what happened to you?" Wesley asked, picking up another roll of the tape before winding it around Nancy's torso as he continued to make his way up her body. "Every agonizing detail of what you went through?"

"Of course I would."

"Interesting…"

Nancy wasn't exactly sure how that was interesting, but then again, she wasn't exactly eager to figure out how Wesley's mind worked. Instead, she concentrated on her breathing, trying to ignore the fact that she was starting to lose feeling in parts of her body. She wondered vaguely if that was the paralysis Wesley had told her about beginning to take effect. Sure, he'd given her some of the antivenin, but it was only to slow down her death. That certainly didn't put a stop to the spider bite symptoms.

Wesley hummed softly to himself as he continued to wrap up her body, holding her arms against her chest as he bound them tightly to her. Nancy couldn't even dream of finding slack in the bindings, they were that tight. Wesley stopped once he got to her neck, lowering her back to the ground, leaving the chains attached to her ankles.

"I think you forgot something," Nancy said, keeping her eyes locked on his.

He smiled indulgently at her. "What's that?"

"You didn't take my heart like the others."

"I seem to remember telling you that I wasn't going to do that. You're very special to me, Nancy."

"So, you're just going to leave me here with the others?"

Wesley shook his head, picking up the final roll of tape.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take you with me." His smile was chilling as he started the final stage of wrapping her up. "You're going to be with me everywhere I go, Nancy."

Nancy's eyes widened, his words chilling her to the bone. "Don't you think it's going to look a little obvious when people notice you carrying around a dead body?"

"I think we've done enough talking." Wesley lifted her head, wrapping the tape around her mouth, silencing her. "Don't worry, Nancy. You're still going to be able to breathe. I won't cover your nose completely. I'm going to let the venom do its work. I'm afraid I can't exactly tell you when you're going to die."

Nancy let out a muffled cry, trying to plead with him with her eyes. He ignored her completely as he wrapped the tape around her eyes, cutting her off from the world around her. She felt something press against her cheek, almost as if he kissed her before she felt herself being lifted into the air.

* * *

"All the lights are off in the house," Joe commented as Frank came to a stop outside Wesley's house. The only light on was the one over the front porch where children were running up the stairs in their Halloween costumes, taking candy from the bowl that Wesley had set outside.

"We're going to have to go in through the back. There's too many people out here and I don't want anyone to get caught in the middle." Frank got out of the car, jogging around to the side of the house, Joe following closely behind.

"So, what's the plan once we get inside?"

"Find Nancy and get her the hell out of there," Frank said, keeping to the shadows as he made his way to the back door. "We can worry about Wesley as soon as she's safe."

"I still think we should call the police," Joe commented as Frank tried the door, only to find it locked. His brother reached into his pocket and pulled out his lock picking kit and set to work. Luckily, there wasn't a need for a flashlight as the full moon provided Frank with enough light.

"If Wesley sees the police, he'll bolt and we may never know where Nancy is." Frank smiled in triumph as the tumblers clicked, signaling the door was now unlocked.

"He's a killer, Frank."

"Yes, thank you, Joe. I didn't realize that." Slowly turning the knob, Frank pushed the door open just enough so he and Joe could slip in. Once they were inside, they each took out a penlight, stepping as lightly as they could.

They stuck together, taking opposite sides of each room. Frank knew if Nancy was in the house, Wesley would have her hidden.

"Hey, when we were here earlier, we heard glass breaking towards the back here, right?" Frank whispered to Joe.

"Yeah."

"Then we need to—" Frank stopped when something silver glinted behind a china cabinet. Frowning, he knelt down and picked the mysterious object up. His blood ran cold at the familiarity of the silver chain and the simple heart charm.

Nancy's necklace.

"Frank, what is it?" Joe whispered, looking at the necklace he was holding with a shaking hand. "Isn't that the necklace you gave Nancy for her birthday?"

"It is."

All of a sudden, the room was enveloped in light, making the brothers blink against the unexpected brightness.

"What are the two of you doing here?" Wesley asked. "I told you I would call as soon as I found out anything about the cufflink."

"Where is she?" Frank's voice was cold as he slowly stood up, his gaze hard as his eyes locked with Wesley's.

"Where's who?"

"Give it up, Wesley. We know you're the killer and we know that you have Nancy," Joe said, stepping forward so he was beside Frank.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Wesley gave them a sympathetic look. "You're obviously stressed from the case and with Nancy being missing. You're grasping at anything you can right now. It's completely understandable."

Frank thrust the necklace at the agent. "This is Nancy's necklace. We found it in here."

"Oh, well she must have dropped it when she was here with me last night," Wesley lied smoothly.

"Cut the crap, you son of a bitch. We know you have her and she's somewhere in this house."

Wesley face slowly broke out into a grin as he shook his head in amazement. "I knew the two of you were good. I was wondering when you were going to figure it out. You managed to do in a few days what other law enforcement agencies have been struggling to do for years."

"So, is this your confession?" Joe asked.

"Take it however you want. I'm afraid it won't do you any good. It will be your word against mine. And who do you think they're going to trust?" Wesley took a step forward into the room. "Two private detectives who are mourning the loss of a friend or a respected veteran agent of the FBI who has been working tirelessly for years, trying to bring a sadistic killer to justice?"

"Where. Is. She?" Frank repeated, his teeth gritted in anger. He couldn't believe for a second that Nancy was dead. He would have felt _something_—he knew it.

"In the basement, if you must know. I'm afraid there's not much you can do for her, though. She's dying as we speak. By the time you get to her, she'll already be dead."

"You're lying." Frank raised his voice to yell. "Nancy!"

"Am I?" Wesley looked amused. "She can't hear you. Or maybe she can—she can't answer you back, though."

Frank cleared the space between them in a matter of seconds. Gripping the agent's shirtfront, he pushed him against the wall, holding him there. "What did you do to her?"

"You've seen the other victims. Would you care to take a guess?"

The color drained out of Frank's face as he thought back to the other women who were murdered. Their deaths had all been the same—nearly completely drained of blood before being wrapped up like a mummy while they were still alive. The cause of death had always been suffocation, meaning they had suffered as they died. Frank couldn't even stomach Nancy going through the same torture.

"It doesn't hurt them," Wesley continued softly. "They barely feel a thing as they take their last breaths. It's as if they're going to sleep."

Frank had never felt so much anger in his life as he stared at Wesley, the agent smiling back at him mockingly. Frank didn't even think as he suddenly struck out, clocking the killer in the jaw, knocking him out. He wished he could have done more to him—Wesley deserved to die the same way he'd killed the others. Frank had never wished death upon anyone, but for Wesley he was willing to make an exception.

"Joe, find me something to tie him up with," Frank said, catching Wesley as he sagged in his arms.

Joe left the room, only to come back a few seconds later with a telephone cord. Helping Frank drag Wesley to a support column in the middle of the room, Joe wrapped the cord around the agent's wrists, securing him to the beam.

Frank was already running out of the room before Joe finished. "Nancy! Nancy, can you hear me?"

He ran to the only door they hadn't checked, only to find it locked. Unwilling to waste time picking the lock, Frank threw himself against the door, feeling it give slightly. Taking a step back, he continued to bring his foot against the wood, finally making it slam open on his third attempt.

He took the steps two at a time, his heart nearly stopping as he reached the bottom. Nancy was nowhere to be seen, and glass littered the floor around a bare medical table. He slowly stepped forward, his eyes widening as he turned the corner and saw what was hanging from the beams across the ceiling.

Bodies wrapped up just like the other victims they'd found, hanging upside down from chains. Four of them, to be exact.

"Frank, did you—Oh, my God." Joe came to a sudden halt beside him and Frank didn't need to look at his brother's face to see it held the same horrified expression as his own. Frank couldn't force himself to move, his worst nightmare was coming to life. They were too late—Wesley had been right.

Joe seemed to snap out of his horror-filled trance first. As he moved forward, he pulled his pocketknife out of his pocket, flipping it open.

"What are you doing?" Frank asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She's here somewhere, Frank. And I have a feeling she's one of these bodies." He glanced back at Frank, a determined expression on his face. "We may still have time to save her. Now are you going to help me or continue to stand there, gawking like an idiot?"

That was all the motivation Frank needed. "Put your knife away, Joe. We don't want to risk cutting Nancy if she's one of these bodies." Walking over to the body closest to him, Frank gently pulled the tape away from the victim's head, not sure if he was relieved or scared when black hair tumbled down.

"This isn't her," Joe said, coughing as the smell of decomposition filled the room. The wrappings had done a good job of masking the smell of death, but as soon as the wrappings came loose, it permeated the air.

Frank said nothing as he took the next hanging body, while Joe took the other remaining one. The first thing Frank noticed was that this body was warm where the other one had been cold. Hope flared inside him, his hands shaking as he began unwinding the fabric around the head, seeing reddish-blonde hair peeking out.

"She's not here, either," Joe said, defeat and fear evident in his voice as he stepped away from the body he'd been examining.

Frank glanced up at the chains around the body he was holding, his eyes following it to a lever that seemed to control it. "Joe, lower her to the ground."

"Is is Nancy?"

"I'm not sure. Just do it." Frank gently eased the body down onto the ground, his fingers once again moving agilely as he unwrapped the fabric, revealing a set of wide, terrified blue eyes looking back at him. "Nancy!"

Nancy let out what sounded like a sob, which only served to break Frank's heart further, unable to imagine the torment she'd gone through in the past twenty-four hours. "Shh…it's okay, Nan. You're safe now. You're safe…" He looked up at Joe, his own eyes wide. "Help me get her out of this, Joe. Hurry…"

Joe was immediately at Frank's side, tearing away the fabric around the lower half of her body while Frank worked on the upper half. Frank tried to keep Nancy's focus on his face, trying to tune out her whimpers of pain. More than anything, he wanted to lean down and kiss her, but he also needed to keep his focus. He was surprised at the way she looked—Wesley had drained all of his previous victims of their blood, but Nancy looked very much alive.

"Spider…" Nancy murmured at his questioning look.

"What about a spider?" Frank nodded his thanks at Joe as his brother took over freeing Nancy from the wrappings. For a moment, anger blazed in his eyes when he noticed the silk gown Nancy was wearing, knowing from the previous victims it was Wesley's doing.

"Spider bites…" Nancy reached down for the edge of the gown and pulled it up, revealing her swollen stomach which was a kaleidoscope of reds, purples, browns, and yellows. "Redback Spider bit me. Wesley gave me some of the antivenin, but only enough to slow it down."

Frank looked up at Joe with fearful eyes as Nancy let out a cry of pain, clutching her stomach. "Joe, call nine-one-one. Tell them what's happening and to hurry the hell up."

"I'm already on it," Joe said, the phone clutched to his ear as he moved away.

Nancy clawed desperately at Frank, gripping onto him as tightly as she could as sobs wracked her body. He honestly couldn't remember a time she had been so scared before and it hurt him deeper than any physical wound could. He was extremely cognizant of the fact that they still weren't out of the woods yet—Nancy still wasn't safe.

But he knew she didn't want to hear that. Not after everything she'd gone through. So, he did what he did best—he made her feel better. "It's okay, Nan. You're safe now." He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips before pulling her into his lap and rocking her gently. "You're going to be okay now."

* * *

Wesley bit back a moan as he twisted his hands, working the cord off his wrists. He brought them forward to see they were bloody, but it didn't faze him. He'd gotten to work as soon as the brothers had left him, having pretended being knocked out when Frank had hit him.

It was a shame he wouldn't be able to bring her along with him as he moved on to the next city. She'd been everything he'd been looking for—a worthy opponent, challenging, and beautiful as hell. But maybe this was for the best.

At least, for now.

There would still be plenty of time to come back for her. Maybe not anytime soon, but he would be back for her. She provided him with what he'd been searching for ever since he'd started killing all those years ago—a fight. She'd fought so bravely against him, refusing to show any amount of fear and he realized with a start, that was what he'd craved.

Standing up, Wesley grabbed his jacket from the closet and slipped it on. Glancing behind him once more as footsteps sounded on the basement stairs, he opened the door and slipped outside, losing himself amongst the trick-or-treaters and their parents as distant sirens pierced through the quiet night.

"_Unto an evil counselor close heart and ear and eye,  
And take a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly."_

* * *

**And sadly, my friends, we have come to the end of another tale. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. **

**And yes, I know. You're probably screaming your head off at me right now at how this ended. I played with the ending for quite a while, and it always led to Wesley getting away at the end. I know you were wanting him to die a slow, tortuous death and who knows? Maybe one day he will.**

**I would love to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to read and review my little story here: SC15 **_**(I hate to say that I'm glad you were terrified, but that's exactly what I wanted to happen with this story!)**_**, Caranath **_**(I live on the edge…might as well take you guys with me!)**_**, hlahabibty **_**(I am so happy you think this is appropriate for Halloween. I actually hate to watch horror movies, but I love to read and write them…I'm weird, I know)**_**, ILoveMom **_**(An asylum would be a fun place to write…and sorry about not giving Wesley a mouthful of poisonous spiders)**_**, Michelle Gallichio **_**(I'm sorry about the spider—I kept researching them and that one kept coming back to me! Australia really didn't luck out with all the poisonous spiders you guys have!)**_**, Mrs. Frank Hardy **_**(Now, could I really kill Nancy or have the boys not find her? I'm not that evil…)**_**, Guest **_**(Sorry for creeping you out with the spiders!)**_**, Stork Hardy **_**(There is nothing more that I can't stand than a story feeling rushed. So glad you've enjoyed it!)**_**, rangermaid **_**(I'm full of classic writer excuses! I hope you enjoyed it!)**_** SarahE7191 **_**(So glad you're loving it!)**_**, and bhar **_**(I actually really do love Nancy! I grew up with her and she's always held a spot in my heart. The reason I put her through so much is because the books never really did. Her mysteries were always so tame compared to the Hardy Boys, so I'm trying to make up for that, I guess…)**_

**I figure you guys will have a lot to say, so please feel free to PM me or I can get a discussion about the story going in one of the forums. Just let me know!**

**I have to thank Lady Emily once again for her constant encouragement and allowing me to ramble on about my crazy ideas for this story. It wouldn't have been possible without her!**

**Let me know what you think and Happy Halloween!**


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